


lips speak louder

by bravefortheboys



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Karaoke, Lack of Communication, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Misunderstandings, Prank Wars, Rivalry, Sexual Humor, Skinny Dipping, Smut, Summer Camp, greg is an incompetent kitchen head, mostly on louis' part of courseeee, niall creates ship names for people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:42:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravefortheboys/pseuds/bravefortheboys
Summary: Pool water dyed blue, a deep hatred for R.E.M., shorts catching on fire, a karaoke night that somehow changes everything, an angering lack of proper communication—oh, and what's camp without a bit of rivalry? (AU in which Louis is a summer camp counselor along with a few other less-than-qualified people just trying to make it through the next four weeks in one piece. The curly-headed bloke from the camp sharing the campsite with them surely won't let that happen)





	lips speak louder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turnyourankle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourankle/gifts).



> HELLO! I was a bit nervous at first at the idea of pinch-hitting, but I got very excited once I saw your prompts because I've ALWAYS wanted to do a summer camp AU! I hope this wasn't complete trash/feel completely rushed or anything. I tried my hardest to include a fulfilled storyline and pranks and angst and everything I've ever wanted in a summer camp AU, so sorry if it seems like a huge mess all jumbled together! There are still many more things I wish I could've added (mostly more smut scenes, if I'm being honest...), but I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless!
> 
> HUGE thank you to my dear darling Natalie for editing this and bouncing ideas off with me at the most random and inconvenient times. I truly don't know what I'd do without you and your amazing help/commentary <3
> 
> ALSO I have nowhere specific in mind for where the camp is set? They live in the UK still, but I don't know much about campsites in the UK/if that's even a big thing/if they're different SO the location of the camp is ambiguous. Imagine wherever your little heart desires (I personally had Wet Hot American Summer in mind in terms of the camp's actual layout, including the dining hall and rec hall/theater)
> 
> title from "Soft Shock" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

 

Summer camp has always been Louis' favorite place on earth.

When reflecting on his favorite memories or talking about how he's met some of his best friends, the stories usually begin with “well, one time at summer camp”. So, of course, it’s only natural he returns for his fifth year as a counselor at Camp Oakwood. 

The main hall is littered with familiar faces and old friends, former campers that are now counselors with him. The same people he's skinny-dipped with at the lake and started a food fight with at the dining hall during their very last summer as campers. He’s never quite gotten used to the warm nostalgia that envelops him every time he steps foot into the rec hall, the smell of sunscreen lingering almost as a permanent aroma due to years and years of counselors and campers meeting inside. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs them on the neck of his faded Zeppelin shirt, already able to feel the sweat collecting at the back of his neck at his hair sticking to his skin. 

He loves camp, but doesn’t necessarily miss the inevitable sweatiness that comes along with it. 

He grins to himself when he sees a familiar head of faux-blond hair, walking over until he’s stood behind him with his hands folded together patiently as he finishes his story.

“… and so I told that brat, ‘If you eat one more booger, you’ll turn into one’. The little punk cried throughout the entirety of snack break,” Niall snickers, causing a mix of groans and barks of laughter from the group he’s speaking to. 

Louis grins and shakes his head, poking at Niall’s waist from behind. “Remind me why you’re allowed to work with children on a daily basis?” 

Niall whips his head around with furrowed brows and a frown, but his eyes immediately widen in surprise and his expression turns jolly with recognition. “Tommo! It’s been too long—whatcha been up to since the last time I saw you?”

Louis huffs and rolls his eyes, though he wraps his arms around Niall when he comes in for a hug. “You mean, just a few months ago when I helped you move? Y’know, the usual. Got married and adopted three children.”

“Not even a minute together ‘nd you’re already being a sarcastic brat,” Niall scoffs as he pushes Louis away, though of course it’s out of love. “Where’s my _favorite_ mate, hm? Gotta get the gang back together—Nouiam together, once again.”

“Excuse me? Li’s catching up with Greg. What the fuck is a ‘Nouiam’?”

“Oh—it’s all of our names together. Niall, Louis, and Liam,” Niall says with a proud smile. “Isn’t it neat? Like, Sebastian and Amy? They’d be Sebastmy,” he explains, nodding over to two counselors talking by the door. “John and Naomi? Johnomi.”

Louis narrows his eyes and shakes his head slowly. “What the hell has gotten into you? Clearly the gap between the last time I saw you and now was too long. Looks like you can’t go two months without me without going crazy.”

Niall gives a sarcastic smile before taking a seat once their camp director, James, walks in. Visor and clipboard and already sunburnt nose all in their glory.

“If I could get everyone’s attention,” James announces from the small stage at the front of the hall, shuffling through some papers on his clipboard before smiling around at all the counselors. “First of all, thank you for helping out this year. Camp Oakwood certainly wouldn't be the same if it wasn't for all you familiar faces,” he says, nodding and grinning in recognition at the counselors who’ve been helping for years, Louis included.

“We’d do anything for you, James,” Niall calls out, smacking a loud kiss onto his hand and blowing it towards James.

James laughs and nods, whacking the kiss away. “If that was the case, my bags would be unpacked and you’d be rubbing my feet, Horan,” he says with a wink before looking down at his clipboard again. “So, there's going to be a bit of a change this year.”

The hall immediately falls silent, eyebrows knit in concern and suspicious eyes trained on James.

James laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “Lighten up, it's nothing bad. As some of you may know, my mate Ben Winston runs a camp just a bit uptown called Camp Sundance.”

The hall erupts in boos. Louis doesn't know a whole lot about the camp, but he knows it's supposed to be some modern- _new_ type of camp, full of yoga and feelings circles, he’s sure. He also know it’s _competition_ , as if they need a harder time recruiting more campers each summer. Louis hates them.

“Well, their campsite had to close down this summer due to renovations,” James continues, sighing deeply as the hall erupts in cheers and whistles. They're a bit of a petty bunch, if Louis’ being honest.

James purses his lips like he's in on a secret, smirking and clearing his throat. “So, they will be joining us here at Camp Oakwood to share our campsite and—”

The hall explodes with a collective gasp, and Louis’ sure he hears a few little winces and whines. Probably from Niall. 

“—and I expect you all to be nothing but accommodating and welcoming towards both the campers _and_ the counselors. We have more than enough cabins, our dining hall is massive, and most of our events take place outdoors, which will leave them the halls and other rooms to do… whatever they do.”

“Talk about their feelings? Make talking sticks and have group discussions? Bloody ridiculous,” Louis grumbles. He just can’t deal with these sad-excuses for camps—simple activities like jogs becoming glorified and praised as _modern_ and _hip_. Whatever happened to the camp tradition? Hiking and bonfires and shitty cabins and minimal showers. But, no. Now, they’ll be surrounded by a bunch of tossers who’ll shush them when they get too rowdy so they can have silence for _reflection time_.

“Hey, hey. None of that. While I know you lot like to make a competition out of everything, I can assure you that they're not a threat to us or our campers. It's an entirely different type of camp, targeting different types of campers and doing different types of camp activities. You’ll be _fine_ ,” James insists, though it sounds more like scolding order from a parent. “They’ll be running on the same schedule, so expect the counselors to arrive soon. Their campers will arrive Sunday afternoon rather than morning with our campers, just so it won’t be so stressful.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Niall murmurs to Louis, subtly nudging him a bit.

“And, _no_ , Niall. You will _not_ set up booby traps over the campers’ cabins,” James interjects with a raised eyebrow, just as if he’s read Niall’s mind. Though, to be fair, it was a given that Niall would try and suggest something like that. “These campers are as young as thirteen and only as old as sixteen years old, just like ours. I don’t want to see or hear about _any_ pranking once the campers arrive. I’m serious about this. Let’s be the mature ones out of the bunch, yeah? You’re getting paid to be.”

Louis snorts and looks to Niall. “You sure you’ll be able to stay mature, Ni?” he taunts playfully before sighing and leaning back as he listens to James continue on with the rest of his ‘welcome-to-camp’ speech. It hasn’t changed much at all through the past years Louis’ been a counselor, and he’s sure it hasn’t changed from the years before then. Still, he appreciates the familiarity and nostalgia it provokes each summer—which only makes him more annoyed about having to share the campsite with some pretentious pricks. It’s _summer_ , dammit. He sure as hell will make the most of it, even if he’s forced to play a little dirty.

 

 

Once James had finished, the counselors were free to continue unpacking and relax a bit since set-up and clean-up duties wouldn’t begin until tomorrow. It was always Louis’ least favorite part of camp, despite how calm the campsite was without a hundred campers running around. He’s never been a fan of cleaning. The only good thing about sharing the campsite is sharing the clean-up duties, but Louis is still rather bitter.

Niall tugs Louis and Liam along back to their shared cabin with a smug smirk on his lips.

“Don’t even _start_ talking about booby traps,” Louis insists, sure that Niall’s just _dying_ to draw up some type of elaborate plan with proper blueprints and everything. 

Niall scoffs and waves Louis off. “I wasn’t going to discuss _pranks_ —though, to be fair, I’ve got a few ideas… but, ok, nevermind. Anyways,” Niall murmurs, reaching into one of his duffel bags to pull out a water bottle.

“Excellent, Niall. I’m glad that you’re getting your necessary hydration,” Louis says with a smile as he pats on Niall’s back.

Niall rolls his eyes and uncaps the bottle, waving it in front of Louis and Liam’s noses, which—okay, that certainly wasn’t water.

“Oi! Don’t you remember what happened to Kane last year when he was caught with alcohol! That’ll go on your bloody record, mate. Like, the _real_ one,” Liam warns disapprovingly, shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

“Relax, I’m not going to get caught. Besides, that dumbass was giving some to the campers for money—this is just for _us_. I won’t even bring it out until nighttime when all the campers have gone to bed, yeah? That work for you, Mama Payne?”

Liam rolls his eyes and shoves at Niall’s shoulder as he walks over to his and Louis’ shared bunk, rummaging through his suitcase. “You better hide that _properly_. In a sock, or something.”

“Right, ‘cause that won’t look suspicious at all. Just a sock filled with a dick-shaped object,” Louis snorts, going through one of his bags as well to reapply some sunscreen.

“What’s this I hear about dick-shaped objects?” a voice questions from by the door, Niall immediately bursting out with a laugh.

“Gregory! Seventh year as the kitchen head, innit? James must be getting desperate,” Louis tuts, going over to give Greg a half-hug since his left arm is covered in sunscreen.

“Ah, thank you, thank you. It’s always good to know my mates have faith in me,” Greg says with a grin, going over to toss his bag up on the bunk below Niall. “Have you seen the counselors yet? Proper models, really.”

“What? They’re here already?!” Niall gasps, hurrying over to the window by the door and peering out and at the other cabins.

“Yeah, I think they’re getting unpacked,” Greg says quietly, almost conspiratorially as if they’ll hear. “I reckon it won’t be long until they’re out in a herd, doing something ridiculous.”

 

It doesn’t take long at all.

The boys finish unpacking for a little while longer before heading outside to bother other counselors and perhaps try to spot the Sundance counselors, and... well.

It’s a bloody slow-motion scene in a movie, is what it is. 

Dozens of them. Dozens of conventionally attractive and fit early-twenty-somethings running by, all daintily clothed and pleasant faced. No traces of sweat or any signs of discomfort from the sun. If anything, just a radiant _glow_ , and it’s unfair.

“God, it’s like _Baywatch,_ ” Louis huffs from where they’re stood in front of one of the cabins, arms crossed as he observes each of them and their perfect hair and smiles and skin. It’s like watching a damn commercial.

“Bae-watch, maybe?” Liam tries with a proud smirk. God, he _tries_. Luckily Louis doesn’t have to tear his eyes away to whack him since Niall’s already scolded him for gawking at the _Enemy_.

“Oh, what’ve we got here? A leisurely jog? What, too good to actually break a sweat for once?” Louis finally calls out with a smirk, Niall widening his eyes and giggling as he whacks his shoulder.

Most of them are too focused on their light conversation and jogging to notice, but one of them—a bloke with long, curly hair tied up in a loose bun—turns his head towards Louis with an amused grin.

“Do _you_ normally break a sweat during a light jog?” Pretty Boy asks, giving Louis a once over before grinning wider. “’s understandable, seeing as your legs are so short,” he adds, sending a wink Louis’ way and jogging off before Louis can even glare in response.

“Hey, fuck off! I’m 5’9!” Louis shouts out after him once he finally comes to his senses, almost tempted to catch up to him to prove it. 

Liam snorts and shakes his head. “No you’re not, mate.”

“I fucking am,” Louis hisses back before walking past him to head to one of the cabins to greet other old counselors who _won’t_ accuse him of lying about his height, thank you very much. 

 

They’re called back into the rec hall a little before scheduled dinner time, and Louis can’t help his snort of amusement at the clear distinction between Oakwood counselors and Sundance counselors. For starters, the Sundance counselors seem rather overdressed for a simple welcome-meeting. They've changed from their leisurely-jog clothes to jeans and light jumpers and pristine shoes as if they'd never even stepped foot outside—a rather noticeable contrast to the Oakwood counselor's attire of jean shorts and any old, worn-out tee they're unafraid to sweat in and dirty. The counselors from Sundance also look quite unimpressed with the old, worn-in state of the rec hall they’re in, probably not used to anything that _isn't_ state of the ark. 

Good. May their indoor yoga sessions and shitty productions of dramatic plays suffer.

“Hello, hi,” a man with dark hair and a beard tentatively says into the microphone at the front of the stage, tapping it a bit to see if it works before clearing his throat and smiling around the audience. “Hi, I’m Ben.”

Cheers from the other side of the hall erupt, and Louis doesn’t even try to hold in a scoff.

“And I’m James,” James says with a smile, the Oakwood side of the audience sure to out-cheer Sundance by properly getting up and clapping. James scrunches his nose a bit in embarrassment and waves them off before looking over towards Ben’s side. “As director of Camp Oakwood, I’d just like to start off by giving you all a warm welcome. Camp is always such a great, memorable time for both the campers _and_ the counselors, and to be able to share our summer together is spectacular. Ben and I have known each other for a very long time thanks to summer camp, and we’re confident we’ll see life-long friendships form amongst you all, as well.”

Ben’s camp at least has the decency to clap and smile politely, but Louis doesn’t buy it. Not when Pretty Boy is chewing his gum like a fucking cow and looking directly at him with a smug eyebrow waggle. 

“And as director of Camp Sundance, I’d like to thank you all for allowing us to share your beautiful campsite. I understand it may be a bit of an adjustment, but I’m sure these next few weeks will start to feel a lot more natural and—well, who knows? Perhaps we’ll want to implement more unity between the camps for future years,” Ben says with a smile, nodding over towards James’ side.

There’s silence at first, but Louis starts clapping loudly and manages to get the rest of the group to join. There’s no way he’ll allow them to be labeled as the rude group, even if the idea of them continuing to share summers together makes him want to gag.

“Great. Thank you,” James says with a smile, nodding at both sides. “Hopefully you’re all unpacked by now, but if not, you have time later tonight. For now, let’s all meet in the dining hall for a unified dinner—maybe get to know each other a little more personally.”

“I can spot at least four counselors over at Sundance I’d like to get to know a little more personally,” Greg murmurs suggestively down at Niall and Louis from where he’s sitting behind, waggling his eyebrows before chuckling.

“ _No._ There will be _no_ hooking up with anyone from that side,” Louis insists with a sharp glare, turning back to face Greg. “Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what they want. They’re fit, and they _know_ it. Look at that smug bastard over there. The curly-headed one. He’s been staring me own ever since this meeting started. Probably thinks he’s gonna get in my pants tonight,” he mumbles, nodding over to the curly-headed bloke who conveniently happens to be sneaking glances his way anyways.

“So what? James said we need to be the mature ones. Why don’t we drop this whole camp rivalry thing and just…”

“Oh, please,” Niall huffs over at Liam. “You’re just saying that because you’ve been eye-fucking that dark-haired bloke ever since he first walked in. I’m with Louis—we gotta establish our authority. ’s _our_ campsite, not theirs.”

Louis sighs dramatically and places a hand over his heart. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason. And _you_ ,” he says, turning back to Greg with narrowed eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen helping with dinner?”

Greg scoffs and rolls his eyes before freezing. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, quickly scrambling up from the benches and slipping off and out to the dining hall. 

“God, how is this his _seventh_ year here?” Niall mumbles, though Louis’ sure Niall’s bitter only because Greg hardly ever takes any of his meal requests to heart. 

“Have you _seen_ the counselors from Sundance? Jesus _Christ_. Artsy _and_ hot,” one of their counselors—Amy—murmurs to them with a grin, laughing along with Liam as they all start to stand up and head out towards the dining hall.

“No. Wrong. You do not and _will_ not think any of them are hot,” Louis orders, though he knows it’s a lost cause because Amy and Liam are to far gone in excited chatter about the dark-haired one. Typical. 

 

 

As hard as Louis tries to keep both camps apart, James and Ben both seem pretty set on sending counselors table-to-table to introduce themselves. 

Louis’ managed to keep conversations to a minimum, so he sighs deeply when he sees Pretty Boy approaching the table he’s sitting at. And to think this dinner was going _so_ well.

“Hi, great to meet you. I’m Harry,” Pretty Boy introduces, setting his tray down across from Louis and sitting down before extending his hand out. 

“Louis,” Louis says simply before taking a big bite of his pizza slice. “So, what do you guys usually do at your camp? Meditate? Late-night yoga? Craft dream journals?”

Harry smiles tightly at his obviously sarcastic tone before shrugging. “I suppose it’s a bit of everything. A more refreshing stance on the typical and outdated ‘camp’ experience that pushes stereotypical gender standards, anyways.”

“Oi, excuse me?” Louis questions slowly, eyes starting to narrow as he slowly sets his piece of pizza down. “What kind of camp do you think _we’re_ running?”

Harry raises an eyebrow before grinning in amusement when he sees he’s struck a chord, reaching for a napkin to dab some of the grease off his pizza. Louis’ not surprised in the slightest at the action. “I think I’ve heard more than enough about your camp activities to know you cater more towards the interests of your male campers.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re saying physical and outdoor activities can’t appeal to girls, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes widen slightly as the cocky grin wipes off his face. “No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“Yeah? Well it came off that way,” Louis hums with a casual shrug, taking another bite before taking a napkin to dab at his mouth. “But while we’re on the topic, I certainly don’t see anything wrong with promoting this so-called ‘outdated’ camp experience—one that can connect kids to something their parents once experienced in a world that’s constantly advancing technologically and making it more difficult to connect with. None of _your_ camp’s modern bullshit activities you can do literally any other day. I mean, when and where else can a group of young teens just unwind and connect without any distractions or expectations from others? Just getting in touch with nature and learning to be unafraid of getting physical and dirty and _careless_. It hasn’t occurred to you that boys aren’t the only ones interested in those things? Because if gender roles are something you’re seriously concerned about, if anything, we help break stereotypes and allow a safe, open environment for _anyone_ and _everyone_ to just have a fun time outdoors. That’s what camp is about, yeah?”

Harry purses his lips tightly and nods, clearing his throat a bit as he looks down and grabs for his tray. “Mhm. Right,” he mumbles as he gets up, cheeks flushing a bit as he walks away to a different table.

Louis smirks smugly to himself and sits a bit straighter, his grin widening as the counselors around him whistle and nudge him.

“Christ, that was brilliant, Lou! Did you see how red he got?” Niall giggles, shaking his head slightly. “Shit, you told him. He’s probably regretting the moment he even sat down.”

“You gave him a boner, mate,” Liam murmurs quietly with widened eyes.

“What?! Shut up,” Louis scoffs, tempted to throw a piece of ham at Liam’s forehead if that didn’t mean sacrificing something off his own pizza.

“No, seriously! I saw him adjust himself as you spoke! I think your little speech turned him on,” Liam insists with a smirk, looking back at Harry before grinning back at Louis. “I’m calling it now; you two are gonna _bang_.”

“Fuck off. He’s a tosser and clearly has no respect for our camp—there’s no way ‘m even entertaining that bloke anymore,” Louis mutters, unable to help himself from sparing a glance over at Harry anyways, who’s got counselors from his side poking and nudging at him teasingly as he blushes. Louis doesn’t want to consider the possibilities, but if he sits a little straighter and prouder, then no one has to know.

 

 

**Week 1**

**Monday**

**3 AM**

 

Louis wakes up to a finger poking at his cheek and a not-so-quiet whisper of his name. He bitterly cracks an eye open and spots Niall and Liam snickering in hoodies.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” he mumbles, trying to cover his head with his blanket but not being quick enough to prevent Liam from tugging it down.

“Okay, first of all, you’re officially banned from saying ‘fuck’, alright?” Liam murmurs with a raised brow.

“Fuck off,” Louis huffs, raising his middle finger as he rolls onto his stomach.

“Come _on_. Do you want to get back at that Harry bloke or not?”

Louis sits up almost immediately. “What’ve you got?”

Niall grins broadly and looks at Liam before looking back at Louis. “Oh, let’s just say it’ll… _blue_ you away…”

Liam frowns back at Niall. “That was the best you could think of?”

Louis’ brows knit together as he looks up at Niall in confusion. “Blue me away? What, like _blow_ me away? Is that supposed to be a joke?” 

 

It _was_ supposed to be a joke. 

Louis learns this once he finds himself standing beside the two in front of the rec pool behind all the main halls and rec centers, holding a few massive bottles of blue dye.

“Tell me why we’re doing this again?”

“ _Because_ ,” Niall huffs impatiently as he uncaps a bottle and pours it in. “I overheard one of the girl counselors reminding the others about their morning water aerobics.”  
Louis scrunches his nose, taking the empty bottle once Niall finishes and handing him another. “Are you sure this’ll even work? Where’d you even get all of this?”

“Greg gave me the blue dye from the arts and crafts room—turns out there was a lot. I reckon they were planning on designing tapestries, or something.”

“Aw. I love tapestries,” Liam comments quietly with a sympathetic pout, uncapping a bottle and pouring it in.

“And you’re sure this will work?” Louis asks with a raised brow, taking the empty bottles from Niall and Liam and tossing them in the garbage bag they'd brought along to hide the evidence.

“Of course. Haven’t you seen _Big Fat Liar_? You think Frankie Muniz would lie?” Niall questions with a mirrored raised brow before smiling over at the pool contently. “It’s not that big of a pool, anyways. Surely the dye will spread around evenly.”

Louis nods understandingly before laughing a bit at the idea of a gaggle of hot twenty-something coming out of the pool with their skin stained blue like proper smurfs. He’s sure they’ll still manage to look hot, but at least it’ll establish their superiority. 

Louis ties off the garbage bag as Niall covers the pool back up with the tarp, the three of them stifling their snickers on their walk back to their cabin. 

“See you in a few hours, lads. Can’t wait to wake up to the sound of screams,” Niall sighs dreamily, saluting the two as he climbs up to the top bunk while Greg continues snoring away unaffectedly at the bottom.

 

 

**9:35 AM**

 

Louis’ unimpressed when he walks into the dining hall and sees Harry and the other counselors all at their tables with breakfast and tea, talking amongst themselves. _Not_ blue-skinned in the slightest.

“You said they'd be doing water aerobics,” Louis mutters to Niall as they walk by, glaring a bit when he catches Harry’s eye.

“Patience. It’ll be worth the wait, however long that is,” Niall insists, nodding at Greg and grinning when he pulls out a prearranged tray of chocolate chip pancakes and french toast.

“Oi! _I_ don’t get my plate specially made?” Louis huffs as he grabs for a tray, scooping some fruit and chocolate chip pancakes onto his plate.

“Maybe if you ask nicely for once…” Greg mumbles, handing them both some glasses to fill up at the juice and drink station. 

“I liked it better when Bradley was in charge of food,” Louis hums out of spite, sticking his tongue out when Greg gasps in genuine shock. The two head over to the table Liam and some of the others are at, explaining what they did in hushed tones and snickering quietly amongst each other.

Liam widens his eyes slightly when he looks off behind Louis, hushing the table subtly before clearing his throat and looking down at his food.

“Hey, we’re going to do some water aerobics in your pool. You’re all welcome to join,” Harry says, Louis rolling his eyes as he reluctantly turns around to face Harry, who’s already got his eyes trained on him.

“What about you, Mr. Outdoors? You seem the type to be into water sports,” Harry says with an innocent smile before walking out along with the rest of his counselors.

Louis doesn’t catch on until he looks back Liam and Niall wide-eyed and hiding their laughter.

“Oh, bloody hell— _fuck you!_ ” Louis calls after Harry, though he’s already out of the dining hall. “Fucking prick. _He’s_ clearly the one into water sports, that hippie-tosser.”

“Yeah, you tell him, Lou,” Niall encourages teasingly, snickering again with Liam before climbing out of his seat and nudging them. “C’mon, we can’t miss this.”

Louis grumbles a bit but climbs out as well, taking his tray with him as he follows them out. He snorts a bit when he sees Greg actually setting up lawn chairs.

He sits down in one of them and crosses his legs as he leans back, popping a piece of strawberry into his mouth.

“Enjoying the view?” Harry calls out with a cocked brow, shedding off his towel and revealing the tiniest and brightest yellow swim trunks he’s ever seen. Louis doesn’t know how he’s real. 

“I _was,_ but a sad-excuse for a banana just came into the picture,” Louis calls back.

“Oh, trust me, honey. _My_ banana is far from sad,” Harry calls back with a smirk, laughing along with his fellow counselors. Louis clenches his jaw and crosses his arms. Okay, maybe he should’ve expected that one. Still, he’s sure Harry won’t be laughing the second his precious yellow shorts turn green.

“Here we go,” Liam murmurs in excitement once they all carefully step in, already having to hide his giggles.

“Pull yourself together, mate,” Louis scolds, though he can’t deny the amount of satisfaction he gets out of watching Harry dive into the pool, the other counselors jumping and diving in after. He absolutely _loses_ it once he comes back up for air, porcelain-cherub skin tinted into cerulean.

“Oh, Jesus,” Niall wheezes, nearly dropping his tray as he tugs his shirt over his face to hide his laughter.

Louis can’t help himself, covering his mouth and shaking a bit from holding it in as the realization sets in for some of the counselors.

“Oh my god…” one of the girls gasps, whipping her head around at the other counselors before looking down at her arms. “The water! It’s _blue_!”

Louis loses it at that, clapping his hands and leaning forward as he bursts out laughing, sure that his sides are going to burn right off once he hears the panicked gasps and sloshes of water as nearly a dozen now-blue bodies try scrambling out of the pool.

“I—I _can’t_ ,” Niall all but cries out, proper tearing up as he covers his face and leans back.

“Did you do this?!” Harry demands from across, grabbing for his towel and scrubbing at his skin roughly.

Louis purses his lips to get himself together just enough for an answer. “Sorry, what? I don’t speak smurf,” he says before bursting out into another fit of laughter, unable to even look at Harry without losing it because he’s bloody _blue_. 

And, okay. Blue and fit, still. But _blue_.

The counselors all scramble off to the bathroom to try and wash the dye off, and it’s safe to say Louis’ got enough content to keep him laughing for the next four weeks. 

 

 

**Week 1**

**Tuesday**

**9:15 AM**

 

Louis wakes up feeling rather confident.

They’ve established authority _and_ managed to turn the Enemy into smurfs. It’s not so bad being on top of things.

He strides into the dining hall with a content sigh, but his high dies down when he spots all his counselors gathered around a table, mumbling about something.

“What do you think it is?” a voice murmurs. 

“What? What’s going on?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, walking over and leaning over a bit to peer at whatever the lot is looking at.

Niall sighs deeply and leans aside so Louis can see a bowl of—mush? Throw up? His deepest, darkest nightmares?

“The fuck is this? Greg?” Louis calls out, instinctively looking over towards the serving area.

“‘m right here,” Greg mumbles, sat right beside Niall with a defeated frown. “The wankers locked me out of the kitchen—couldn’t get in until they finished cooking breakfast themselves. I tried whipping something _edible_ up after they let me in, but they hid all the food and replaced it with… like… oats ‘nd grains ’nd stuff.”

Niall whimpers and rests his head in his hands. “I’m going to _starve_ ,” he whines.

Louis furrows his eyebrows and places his hand on his hip, huffing a bit when his stomach rumbles almost on cue. “No we’re not,” he insists before walking over towards the kitchen. He looks around, nose wrinkling when he sees massive pots of pre-cooked… mush all lined up and ready to be served. Yeah, as if he’d even _touch_ that shit. He heads to the pantry to search for anything they could actually use, huffing when he only sees unlabeled jars and containers of grains and nuts and everything Camp Oakwood _isn’t_ about. It’s sacrilegious, is what it is.

“Looking for something?” he hears a voice ask, and he doesn’t even have to look back to know whose smug mug it belongs to. Louis whips around and glares.

“Oh, lovely. Looks like the blue came off nicely—tell me, how’d it feel having blue balls for that long?”

Harry smiles innocently and shrugs. “If you come here, maybe I can show you.”

“You’re funny,” Louis muses sarcastically, shutting the pantry door before crossing his arms back at Harry. “Seriously. Where’s the food? You’re gonna cause an Irishman to have a breakdown, I hope you know.”

Harry gasps and clutches his heart. “So rude. My friends and I woke up extra early to make you a healthy quinoa bowl full of flax and chia seeds, and you have the audacity to be so inconsiderate.”

“What the fluck— _fuck_ ,” Louis corrects with a deep sigh, though Harry’s already raised his brows and laughed brightly.

“What the fuck is flax, you mean? Wow, what a surprise. You’d think Mr. Outdoors would know everything there is to know about every type of seed,” Harry tuts, pausing before his lips turn into a smirk. “I mean, I’m sure you know a _ton_ about—”

“Don’t finish that, you twat,” Louis scoffs, 

“Gosh, always so generous with the curse words.”

“What can I say? I’m a generous person,” Louis mumbles before scrunching his nose and groaning. “Dammit!”

Harry snickers and covers his mouth. “You see my problem here? You’re basically setting yourself up. It’s a sin for me _not_ to point it out, really.”

“Fuck you,” Louis mumbles before walking past Harry and rejoining the counselors out at the table. “C’mon, we’ll order a bloody pizza.”

Niall lights up with a bright grin and nods. “Lovely idea. Dunno why we didn’t think of it sooner.”

Louis rolls his eyes. It’s a weak prank, is what it is. It’s almost a slap in the face, considering their blue dye prank was _brilliant_. This one was too easy, and Louis isn’t buying it, sure that the Sundance shits have got _something_ else planned.

 

 

Louis’ _peeved_ when he realizes they haven’t got anything else planned. 

They’re cleaning cabins and dusting out the various rec rooms and ensuring the equipment is all stable and ready, and usually that’d put him in the campy mood. But, no. Instead he’s got a stupid, cocky curly-haired bloke on his mind. 

“We have to get him back,” Louis says, wiping off some of the sweat on his forehead before continuing to dust and clean all along the windows.

“Him? Who’s him?” Liam asks while doing a pre-sweep of the floors before he starts to mop. 

“ _Them_. I meant _them_ ,” Louis corrects quickly, scrunching his nose as he catches a few cobwebs on his duster. “What’s the plan, hm? We’ll get up later at night—past midnight, again, when they least expect it.”

Niall sighs dramatically and plops down on one of the mattresses that he’s currently patting out. “I’m _tired_. Can’t we do a prank another night? We’ve been cleaning all day. They’ll probably be too beat to even appreciate a good prank, anyways.”

“No. This is the _perfect_ time to strike. Kick them while they’re down, yeah? Maybe, like… covering their floors with all that grain and seed shit they stocked our kitchen with, yeah?” Louis suggests with a mischievous grin.

“Sounds like a mess,” Niall mumbles, adjusting his worn-out backwards baseball cap on his head before getting up to adjust the mattress.

Liam yawns as he comes back in from emptying the dust pan. “I’m with Niall. Really, Lou, let’s save it for another time.”

Louis huffs and rolls his eyes, finishing the window he’s been working on and tossing the duster aside. “You’re both _lame._ We’ve hardly even been here, ‘nd you’re already tired.”

“We’ve only had pizza today,” Niall whines, to which Louis throws his hands up in exasperation.

“You’re served healthy food, you complain. You eat junk, you complain. What is _with_ you?”

Liam tuts at Louis and goes over to wrap an arm around Niall comfortingly. “Don’t mind him—he’s just sexually frustrated because of that curly-haired bloke.”

Louis nearly yelps in response. “Sexually frustrated?! _Please_. I couldn’t give less of a damn about that arse.”

Niall grins and shakes his head. “Aw, Lou. You don’t need to deny it. He wants you, remember? Got hard when you got all preachy about girls doing outdoorsy stuff, and all,” he coos, Louis huffing and tossing one of the rubber gloves he’s wearing at Niall’s head.

“Hey—oh, sorry, wrong cabin,” one of the counselors from the other camp—the one _everyone_ was gawking at, really—says with his head popped in from the side, giving an apologetic smile before making a move to leave.

“No, wait!” Liam says, desperation evident in his voice. “Um, I mean. Do you need anything? Any help?”

The dark-haired bloke pauses and just stares a bit, like he’s suspicious of actually accepting help from The Enemy (which is _them,_ in this case).

“Um… yeah, actually. Do you know where I can find the arts and crafts room?”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. “Nice try, but we don’t have one of those.”

“Yeah we do,” Liam insists almost immediately, furrowing his eyebrows at Louis like _he’s_ the one being strange. “We changed it to a storage room for outdoor equipment because we never used it. I’m Liam, by the way,” Liam introduces, putting a smile on once he turns to face the dark-haired guy.

The guy smiles unsurely in response. “Zayn,” he says, darting his eyes over to Louis once before looking back at Liam. “Would you mind showing me the way? Your director said we were free to turn it into an arts and crafts center for the campers.”

Liam drops his mop all too eagerly and nods, smiling as he walks over. “Yeah, of course. That sounds great. I’ve always thought our camp should implement more arts and crafts related activities.”

Louis can’t even speak due to how confused he is on account of Liam using the word ‘implement’ properly, as well as his apparent interest in arts and crafts. 

“God, what a traitor,” Louis mumbles as the two walk out while laughing about something. 

Niall tuts and shakes his head. “Is it healthy being this bitter at all times?”

Louis turns towards Niall and puts on a cheesy smile. “Absolutely. Gluten free, vegan, you name it,” he says before turning over to watch Liam show Zayn to the room from the window. Their _storage_ room, thank you very much. Their storage room that plays a very crucial part in camp for… storing things. And these wankers think they can just _take it_. He grumbles to himself as he moves over to the next cabin to help clean, already thinking of his own plan for tonight. 

 

 

**Week 1**

**Wednesday**

**10:00 AM**

 

Louis allows himself to wake up rather late the next morning, feeling quite smug and refreshed once he finally does step out and sees counselors from both sides admiring his work of art. 

He yawns as he briskly walks over, feigning shock as he observes a huge, detailed painted penis on the window and various other little penises made out of various craft supplies.

“I _just_ cleaned and organized the supplies last night,” Zayn groans as he wipes a hand over his face. “That paint better be washable, I swear to _God_.”

“Which one of you arseholes did it?” one of The Enemies asks with narrowed eyes, a girl with long brown hair tied up in a high ponytail. “Whoever did it better clean it, or we’ll bring it up to James.”

“Oi, gonna _tattle_ on us?” Louis snorts, though he doesn't receive that great of a response. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Relax. We’ll get to the bottom of it and make sure your precious window is cleaned,” he mumbles, playing it off rather smoothly if he says so himself.

The group starts to disperse off into mini groups and pairs to continue breakfast, leaving Louis to admire his work.

“So, this is what art is like coming from an outdoorsy bloke,” he hears Harry comment from behind, sighing deeply and closing his eyes.

“Do you, like, _always_ have to hang around like this? Waiting just to make a dumb comment?”

“If it means making you miserable—yeah, I believe so,” Harry hums, smiling and cocking his head towards the window once Louis glares back at him. “I like the blue balls on that mini penis by the door. Nice detail.”

“Yeah, thanks. I modeled it after yours, but I was probably a bit generous with sizing,” Louis hums with a shrug before walking off, internally high-fiving himself for _nailing_ that interaction without any accidental innuendos and slip-ups.

 

He ends up cleaning the window, of course, but only when everyone else continues with their cleaning and setting-up so it’s not as suspicious. If anything, he looks rather mature and like the bigger-person. So, take _that_ , Camp Sundance.

 

 

**8:35 PM**

In order to promote more _togetherness_ among the counselors, Ben and James arrange for some type of speed-dating type of game where each counselor from Oakwood has to talk to each member of Sundance for at least two minutes. 

It’s awkward within most of the interactions, usually not amounting to much more than a simple introduction and random comment.

He braces himself for when Harry comes to sit in front of him, giving him a tight smile as he folds his fingers together on the table as James starts the timer.

“Hi, I’m Harry Styles,” Harry says, reaching out to offer his hand.

“Hi, you’re a knob,” Louis replies, his eyes narrowing when he notices Harry’s R.E.M. shirt. “God, of _course_ you like R.E.M.”

Harry looks down and furrows his brows. “What? Of course I like good music…?”

“Good music?! Bloody hell,” Louis scoffs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair. “Dunno how anyone can stand his voice. It’s so whiny.”

“Oh, God. That’s _rich_ coming from someone wearing an Oasis tee,” Harry huffs, crossing his arms as he nods towards Louis’ shirt.

Louis curses himself mentally for choosing to wear this shirt this day. Though, he supposes he can’t be prepared for anything since Harry seems to have the ability to nitpick anything.“Oasis has some _great_ hits.”

Harry narrows his eyes and almost looks _shocked_ before huffing out a laugh and cocking his head. “‘Losing my Religion’, ‘Man on the Moon’, ‘It’s the End of the World As We Know It’. Don’t tell me you’re _so_ uncultured that you don’t know any of them.”

“Please. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than any of those,” Louis huffs before raising an eyebrow and snorting. “Though, I’d rather listen to ‘It’s the End of the World As We Know It’ on repeat for an entire day than have to sit through another two minutes with you, so…” he trails off with a shrug, smiling contently when the timer goes off.

Harry glares across at Louis, standing up to move. “Well. Always a pleasure to talk to you,” he says with a tight smile before walking off, Louis smiling sarcastically back in response.

Niall raises an eyebrow across at him from across the hall where he’s sat, gesturing the ‘ok’ sign on his left hand and sticking his right pointer finger in and out of it with a smirk.

Louis scoffs and flips Niall off, though his mind immediately goes to how Harry had apparently gotten hard from his little rant the other day. He wonders if maybe he’d gotten turned on just now… but. Okay. That’s not a thing he should be considering now, so he pushes that thought for a later time.

 

 

**Week 1**

**Thursday**

**4:00 AM**

 

Louis startles awake when the sun isn’t even out, much to his dismay. To make matters worse, he wakes up to ‘It’s the End of the World As We Know It’ by R.E.M. blasting from _somewhere_ in their cabin. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t know _where_ it’s coming from.

“Bloody _hell_ , turn that off!” Liam groans, covering his head with the blanket in frustration.

Louis wishes he could do the same, but he knows _he’s_ gotta do it because he knows this is for _him_ specifically. He regrets telling Harry bloody Styles a single thing.

Louis lets out a frustrated exhale before crawling out of his bunk, still a bit disoriented from his ungraceful waking and the current time, but managing to somewhat follow the noise. He squints his eyes as he follows it towards the window on the wall in between both bunks, looking out but not seeing much due to the darkness. He sighs heavily and grabs his flashlight from his bed before switching it on and heading out to find the source.

He shines his light on the ledge of the window once he’s outside, scrubbing at his eyes as he continues to search around and shine his light on anything that may be the source until he actually _steps_ on it—a portable bluetooth speaker hidden beneath some leaves. Fantastic. 

“You’re _so_ clever,” he sarcastically calls out to Harry, because he’s sure the wanker is listening —either that, or he’s actually set an alarm beforehand just to annoy Louis and is still sound asleep. Either way, he’s pissed. He powers off the speaker and throws it as far as he can out of spite before trudging back around into his cabin and hastily climbing back in bed, already sulking and trying to think of how to get Harry back.

 

**9:00 AM**

 

Louis begrudgingly gets up for breakfast with an already cranky mood, his sleep all fucked thanks to Harry's little early morning wake-up call. He tugs on his usual jeans shorts and loose tee before walking into the dining hall to find some tables pushed together to accommodate the counselors from both camps, all of them talking quietly amongst one another. 

“Hey, Lou. C’mere, we’ve gotta talk,” Niall says, waving Louis over and patting the seat beside him. Louis narrows his eyes and looks around before reluctantly going to sit by him. He scoffs when he sees that Harry’s across from him, though he’s sporting an equally annoyed look.

“So, we’ve been thinking…” Liam starts off slowly, pursing his lips when Louis already starts to glare.

“This pranking shit is getting real old real fast,” Zayn interjects, a few of the counselors nodding in agreement. “The blue thing—fine, okay. Haha, very funny. Food thing—innocent, simple. Whatever. But defacing your own bloody camp property and wasting our supplies?”

“I cleaned the window, didn’t I?” Louis huffs, crossing his arms as Liam tuts at him. Typical—one interaction with the bloke and he’s already whipped for him.

“And _you_ ,” Zayn says, turning his head to Harry. “You owe me a new speaker.”

“I wasn’t the one that threw it at a tree!” Harry insists, shooting a glare over towards Louis.

“Well _I_ wasn’t the one blasting bloody R.E.M. at the asscrack of morning!” Louis shoots back.

“God, would you two just _grow up_?!” one of the girls from Harry’s camp huffs. “It’s bad enough we’ve got to change so many things to fit around _your_ schedule.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Why don’t you just go back to your own camp, then?” Louis suggests with a sarcastic tone.

“Okay, see— _this_ is the shit that needs to stop,” Zayn says with a frustrated huff, looking between Harry and Louis. “You had a few days to get it all out of your system, but there’s going to be a ton of young teens coming in in just three days that’ll be _here_ and _present_ for all of your dumbass decisions. You really want them to go home telling their parents about their counselors that painted dicks on the window and woke the entire camp up at 4 AM for a _prank_? How does that reflect on the rest of us, hm?”

Louis crosses his arms and keeps silent, his eyes burning holes in the table. He wouldn't dare look up, but he’s sure Harry’s doing the same, anyways. At least they have stubbornness in common.

Zayn sighs deeply and folds his hands together. “Do you want to settle things or not, then?”

“How do you suppose we settle things, hm? Talking sticks? Group meditations? The power of _art_?” Louis muses with an eye roll.

“Quit being a prick,” Liam scolds, flicking at Louis’ shoulder before looking at Zayn, then between Harry and Louis. “We all talked things over, and—well, we thought maybe we could do a little friendly competition. Nothing serious, and absolutely _nothing_ in front of the campers. Just after our nightly meetings in the rec hall when all the campers are already in their cabins. Little competitions, challenges—whatever you need to get this pettiness out of your system.”

Louis purses his lips at the thought. He can’t say it doesn’t spark some interest in him, and he knows they can’t go on like this in front of a bunch of impressionable early teenagers. So, he nods reluctantly.

Harry looks up at Louis for a moment before nodding as well. “Yeah, fine. Okay.”

“Okay. So, no more pranks,” Zayn says slowly, looking between the two carefully. “Got that? No. More. Pranks.”

“Yes, okay, I get it. Want me to sign a bloody contract?” Louis snaps slightly. 

Zayn raises an eyebrow before whipping out a clipboard seemingly out of nowhere, placing it on the table. “All of us have already signed. You two can fill in the blanks at the bottom.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows as he reads over the document.

 

_I solemnly swear to abide by the ‘no pranks’ rule and only engage in friendly and safe competitions at night when all campers have been sent back to their cabins. If I fail to meet my promises and end up aiding and/or creating any form of a prank, I agree to be shaved completely bald, head-to-toe, by the person I committed the prank on._

 

Louis and Harry both widen their eyes and look at Zayn.

“What the fuck?!” Louis quirks, pushing the clipboard away from him. “That’s crazy. I’m not letting anyone put a razor anywhere _near_ me.”

Harry pauses for a moment before cocking his head at Louis with a raised eyebrow. “Why? nervous you’re gonna break and give in?”

“No,” Louis snaps back with a glare. He purses his lips as expectant eyes land on him, sighing deeply before reaching for the pen and clipboard to sign his name. “There. No more pranks.”

Harry snatches the pen and clipboard out of Louis’ hands once he finishes and signs as well. “Lovely. Maybe we’ll have a chance to become _best buds_.”

Louis lets out a fake laugh and tips his head back. “Y’know, I don’t really see that happening, for some reason.”

“Okay, cool. It’s done,” Zayn cuts in, taking the clipboard and pen away from Harry’s hands before standing up and smiling tightly around at everyone. “Thanks for your cooperation. Sorry that a few blokes had to ruin it for everyone else,” he murmurs, sparing a pointed look at Louis and Harry specifically before heading off to grab some breakfast, everyone else eventually following behind.

“So. You sure you’ll be able to play civil with me during the day?” Harry quirks, removing his Ray-Bans from the top of his head to hang on the neck of his shirt.

“Of course. So long as you’re ready for me to kick your arse in any and every challenge we do,” Louis replies with a smug smile. 

Harry tips his head back for a laugh before looking at Louis with narrowed eyes. “I’m ready for anything, babe.”

“Well I’m ready if you are,” Louis replies with a matching glare, leaning in challengingly.

“Guys? Um, hey. I’m still here,” Greg says from the end of the table.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Greg, go to the bloody kitchen,” Louis huffs, shooing Greg off.

Greg nods quickly and gets up. “Right, yeah. My bad.”

Louis and Harry continue glaring at each other, neither of them wanting to be the first to break it, but neither of them exactly understanding the meaning of their staring match.

“Harry. Get over here,” one of the counselors—Nick—calls over at Harry. Thank God.

“See you around, then,” Louis hums, leaning back into his chair leisurely as he watches Harry get up.

“Counting on it,” Harry hums back, sparing one last glare before heading off to his table.

It’ll certainly be a long few weeks.

 

 

**Week 1**

**Sunday**

**9:25 PM**

 

The next few days pass by without much action, both parties far too tired from the nonstop cleaning and organizing and planning to really even entertain the idea of starting their competition. Louis manages to make it to Sunday without sparing anything but glares towards Harry, which he sees to be an accomplishment.

 

Sunday goes by in a bit of a haze, time seeming to just speed by once the campers are dropped off and events begin. After several non-stop hours of helping campers unpack, giving welcome speeches, starting icebreaker games, and overall chaos of trying to make them feel relaxed, it’s welcome-bonfire time.

Niall whips his guitar out, as always, and plays a few songs to get the crowd settled down and in a light mood, as well as unknowingly charming every single girl gathered round. Counselors included.

“Alright, everyone, that’s all for tonight,” Niall announces after finishing a cover of 'Kokomo' with help from the crowd, smiling when the campers all whine. “It’s okay, we’ll have plenty more bonfires and opportunities to gather around like this later on. Start heading back to your assigned cabin and get ready for bed. A counselor will come in and check to make sure everyone’s in their correct place, and will check again to make sure lights are out by 11,” Niall says, standing up and packing his guitar away as the campers whinesome more but reluctantly get up to disperse off into their rightful places.

“What’s the first challenge going to be?” Louis asks Liam in a hushed tone and a small nudge, though he’s sure no campers are paying any mind, anyways.

“What makes you think I know?” Liam murmurs back.

“Oh, please. Your little boyfriend created the bloody contract—don’t act like you don’t know the entire masterplan,” Louis huffs, not missing the small little smirk Liam tries to hide from him. 

“You’ll see soon enough,” Liam answers simply before walking off.

Louis rolls his eyes, heading off to help campers get back to their cabin.

“Hey, Louis, right?” one kid asks, tapping Louis’ shoulder. He can’t be older than 15, but he’s sure he’s seen his face the year before and perhaps even the year before that.

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up? Need help finding your cabin?” Louis asks, trying not to be too annoyed about how much louder and crowded it seems since they’ve got double the campers now.

“Hi—Ryan. I went here last year… I was the one that tried to trap a bear on the campsite?” the boy says, Louis raising his eyebrows before letting out a laugh.

“Shit—I mean, _yeah_ , that’s right. I remember,” Louis snorts, shaking his head slightly. “Better not even _think_ of trying that again, pal.”

“No, no. I learned my lesson,” Ryan assures with a grin, looking around slightly. “So, we’re going to be sharing this space with all these other campers for the rest of camp?”

“Yeah, sadly,” Louis sighs lightly, though he puts on a smile because, right. Stay positive. “But the more the merrier, yeah?”

Ryan scrunches his nose and shrugs. “I don’t really like the idea of sharing the campsite—especially not with those phonies.”

Louis has to hold in a snort because _true_. “Be positive, won’t ya? You may end up having a lot in common with some of them.”

Ryan huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “Yeah, right,” he mumbles before scurrying off to his cabin. Louis decides Ryan’s one of the good ones.

 

He’s a bit concerned, to say the least, when Zayn pulls out a rather long rope for the challenge. 

“Ropes?” Louis questions, looking around the campfire for possibly anything that might give more of a hint.

“Ooh, 50 Shades, much?” a girl counselor from the other camp—Eleanor—says with a grin, waggling her eyebrows along with the other girls, to which Zayn glares at in disapproval.

“Wrong. You really think I’d reference such a toxic, sad-excuse for a romance story?” Zayn muses, cocking his eyebrow before looking back around. “Alright. We’re starting off with a simple game of tug-of-war.”

“Oh, fuck _yes,_ ” Niall says with a clap, grinning as he nods back at Liam. “You see Payno’s biceps? There’s no _way_ we’re losing.”

“I dunno, Harry’s shaped up to be quite the beefcake,” Nick muses with a smirk.

Harry grins and rolls his eyes, waving Nick off bashfully. Louis sees right through the bullshit.

“Fine. Prove it,” Louis hums with a tight smile, going over and waving for all his counselors to follow along. “Go on, Payno, get in front. Show ‘em what you got.”  
“No way. This is _your_ battle, mainly. Don’t wanna get in between you and that _beefcake,”_ Liam drawls with a smirk, Niall snorting and rolling his eyes.

“ _Heef_ cake. That’d be Harry’s name mixed with beefcake. Heefcake,” Niall says with a proud grin, snickering at himself before getting into place. Louis really wishes he hadn’t assumed so soon that they were going to win.

Louis begrudgingly gets in front, rolling his eyes as Harry makes a show out of rolling up the sleeves of his already tattered and faded-out Rolling Stones tee. Of course. 

“Eyes on the rope, okay?” Harry warns playfully as he grabs onto it, Zayn in between them tying a little flag in the middle.

“’s not like I have much else to look at,” Louis muses simply, grabbing onto the rope and making a point to look elsewhere.

“Alright, on the count of three,” Zayn says once he’s ensured everyone’s grabbed on. “One… two… three!”

Louis’ face immediately scrunches up as he pulls, knowing he must not be doing much because most of the tug is coming from behind him, but he can at least be prideful in the fact that the odds seem to be in their favor.

“Gonna break a sweat now, Pretty Boy?” he grunts out, not too worried about the flag wavering in the middle because it seems to be pulled back towards them each time.

Harry huffs out a strained laugh, shrugging as his own face scrunches as well. “You keep talking dirty like that to me, ‘nd I just might.”

Louis’ instinct _should_ be to scoff or roll his eyes, but a bit of a smirk twitches on his lips at that—maybe it’s because he’s gotten used to Harry’s dumb, cheeky ways and maybe has learned to not mind it all so much, or maybe because the flag is definitely coming their way. Louis would like to believe it’s the latter.

It only takes a few more strained tugs as a group for Harry’s team to topple over and for the flag to come sailing their way, Louis and his counselors cheering and clapping.

Harry huffs and gets up onto his feet, dusting himself off and undoing his bun to run his fingers through his hair as he shakes his head at Louis. “You were distracting me. Intentionally.”

“What? I can’t make leisurely conversation?” he muses innocently, sending a wink Harry’s way as Zayn goes over to put a single tally mark on the ‘Camp Oakwood’ side of a board he’d apparently set-up and decorated earlier.Louis’ impressed with his dedication.

“Alright. Camp Oakwood wins for tonight. Same time, same place tomorrow. Now head back to your cabins before anyone catches us,” Zayn orders, shooing them all off as he grabs the rope and scoreboard to hide away in the arts and crafts room. 

Louis lingers around a bit as he waits for Harry to finish saying goodnight to a few people, cocking his head at him and crossing his arms. “So. No snarky comment to add? No cheeky one-liners?”

Harry gives a bit of a resigned smile and shrugs before shaking his head. “Goodnight, Louis,” he says before heading off.

Louis scrunches his nose at that. Okay, so he can get used to cheeky, inappropriate comments, but a simple ‘goodnight’ throws him off now? Never underestimate the power of Harry Styles, he supposes.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Monday**

**8:45 AM**

 

“… and he just says, ‘Goodnight, Louis’. Like—what? What is that even supposed to _mean_?” Louis vents to the table, huffing a bit as he cuts his waffles.  
“I think he just meant to say goodnight, mate,” Liam insists with a mouthful, reaching for his orange juice. 

Louis shakes his head with furrowed brows, looking around suspiciously as if Harry might catch onto the fact that he’s talking about him all the way across the dining hall where the rest of his counselors are. “He’s never said goodnight to me, though.”

“Maybe ’s cause you’ve been too busy flirting through your pranks,” Niall suggests with a mouthful, and Louis really ought to teach basic table manners to them someday.

“We haven’t been _flirting_ at all,” Louis insists, pushing his tray back and sighing as he shakes his head. “I just don’t bloody get him. How can he go from being all cheeky and snippy to just—nothing? Is he, like, done? That’s no fun.”

Greg groans and shakes his head. “If I have to hear one more word about Harry come from your mouth, I’ll be tempted to feed you actual shit, mate.”

Louis smiles sarcastically before kicking at Greg’s leg under the table. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”

Greg grins and wags a finger at Louis. “You would _think._ Nah, but Nick said he could cover for me—I think Harry actually volunteered to help.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth, though he pauses when Niall and Liam both groan. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I was just going to say, shouldn’t only kitchen-staff be allowed in the kitchen?”

That’s definitely _not_ what he was going to say, but clearly he can’t go off on another tangent of trying to figure out what Harry _means_. 

“Dunno. Apparently Harry’s a baker, or something. Gonna make cookies for later,” Greg says with a shrug and yawn, helping himself to Louis’ half-eaten pieces of bacon. Louis truly doesn’t know how Greg’s been here for so long.

  

**10:10 PM**

 

“It’s simple, really,” Liam starts off, a little bucket full of pieces of wood by his feet. They’d agreed as a group that it’d be fair if one person from Camp Oakwood helped with running the challenges along with Zayn, and Liam was, of course, quite eager to be that person.

Louis’ feeling rather burnt out from the day, if he’s being honest. He’s led two different hikes and refereed nearly a dozen footie games for the campers, yet he’s somehow still eager for a _challenge_. There’s just something about proving himself that gets him quite revved up. 

“Basic survival skills, y’know? ’s who can start a fire first,” Liam announces proudly, a majority of the group groaning and stepping back. Liam pouts a bit and furrows his brows. “Oi, don’t be like that. It’s really not as hard as it seems.”  
“Can’t you tell we’re bloody tired! How come these challenges all have to be physical, hm? Why not, like, a board game challenge? Or a karaoke challenge?” Eleanor whines, eliciting a few hums and nods of agreement from around the group.

“Fine, fine. We’ll have less physical challenges and do more of— _that_ on later nights. But _tonight_ , we’re starting fires,” Liam says with a broad grin before pausing and shaking his head. “I mean, safely. Consciously. We’re starting fires, then putting them out as soon as we start them.”

Louis snorts slightly and nods, reaching over to grab two pieces of wood from the bucket without another word. He inspects them both all around before deeming them worthy enough to work.

Harry follows after almost immediately, grabbing two pieces and standing opposite of Louis. Louis almost has to laugh at how he doesn’t even inspect the pieces or how he doesn’t even seem to know how to properly _hold_ them.

“Alright, looks like we have our first two participants,” Liam says proudly, though it’s not like anyone was expecting anything different. “When I say go, alright?”

Louis nods lightly before looking at Harry. “Careful, there, H. Wouldn’t wanna catch those pretty curls on fire.”

Harry smiles tightly and cocks his head. “I’m sure you can think of something else to tug on when you dream of me,” he hums sweetly before looking to Liam, who gives them both a nod.

“Get ready… get set… go!” 

Louis’ whips his head down and quickly works the two pieces of wood together at the perfect angle. He almost wants to laugh at how Harry's inspecting the pieces still as if he's searching for a mark that says ‘rub here’, shaking his head as he continues rubbing his own pieces together.

“‘s not gonna bite you, Pretty Boy,” he sneers, smiling smugly at Harry's glare.

He darts his eyes up momentarily and raises an amused raised eyebrow once Harry finally starts, overviewing his technique—which, if he's honest, isn't so bad for someone who does arts and crafts and yoga all day. He's still working on his own two pieces when he nearly freezes in shock at Harry's biceps. Harry's _bulging_ biceps. Harry's biceps of pure muscles, popping out as he intensely focuses on creating a spark. 

“C’mon, Lou, hurry!” he hears, but it's honestly like he's got tunnel vision now. He doesn't think he can rip his eyes away even if he tries because, _god_ , is it even legal to have arms so fit? Is it possible to be sexually attracted to arms? It is now, he thinks. 

He hears people calling his name, but he's too distracted by the way Harry's bottom lip is caught in between his teeth, and the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and the way his eyes almost darken in determination. Mark Louis down as scared and horny. 

He's about to let his eyes drift back down to the glorious, marble-sculpted art Harry calls arms when the shouts of his name become more clear.

“Louis! Your shorts are on fire!”

Louis widens his eyes and whips his head down, sure enough seeing that the bottom of his shorts have caught on fire from the closeness of the spark he’d unknowingly started. 

“Fuck!” he hisses, dropping the sticks and stupidly trying to blow and pat the flame away. 

“Take them off! Stop drop and roll!” Liam orders hysterically, trying to pat or fan the flame away but only retreating his hand every time it gets close to the flame.

“Fuck that!” Louis huffs, looking around desperately. There's no way he's exposing his Iron Man underwear just because of a little flame, and he’s not going to roll in the dirt like a bloody idiot. No. He's going to go down with more dignity.

So, he sprints over to the nearby dock and hops right into the lake, fully-clothed and all. He gasps for air once he finally comes up, the initial shock wearing down and the realization of what he just did sinking in.

“Oh, _bloody hell_ ,” he mutters to himself as he hesitantly climbs up the ladder, already able to hear the barks and bursts of laughter—most of it coming from Niall and Greg, those twats.But _Harry…_ god, Harry’s on the bloody _ground_ with his stomach clutched in his arms and everything. Louis would be angry if it wasn’t such a ridiculous sight.

“Ha-ha. Right. Super hilarious,” Louis mumbles, waving Liam off before giving a dramatic bow in the middle of the group as water drips from all over.“Okay. A point for Camp bloody Sundance. Goodnight, you wankers,” he says, flicking his middle fingers up as he walks off and away from the cheers and whistles. 

It’s weird; losing doesn’t feel so bad when it means he can see Harry quite literally rolling on the floor and crying from laughter. Louis entertains the idea of maybe perhaps seeing that everyday, but he’s quick to ignore that thought as he hops into the luckily warm shower.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Tuesday**

**3:30 PM**

 

Louis’ supposed to be guiding his hike. 

It’s his slotted time and he even met up with his assigned group, but a majority of them said they were still sore from yesterday and the other few insisted they wanted to check out the musical some campers from Camp Sundance were starting to work on. Who was Louis to deny the wishes of the hopeful youth? And, more importantly, who was he to deny his own aching limbs from a break?

It’s pathetic, really. It’s only the second day of official camp and he’s already all sore and tired. He fears maybe he’s _lost it,_ but by the half-dead way Liam and Niall seem to be trudging along, he figures maybe there’s just something about having an entire other group of campers being here.

So, he plans to hide out in the arts and crafts room until they come back from their hike. He figures it’s safe enough since Zayn’s session isn’t scheduled until 4:30, which means he can take a nicely-sized nap on one of the bean bag chairs.

Much to his dismay, someone seemed to have already picked up on that idea. More specifically, _Harry._

Louis sighs dramatically as he closes the door behind him, grinning a bit as he watches Harry jolt awake. He seems to relax when he sees it’s just Louis, curling up again and closing his eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be, like, wrestling bears or something?” he mumbles, stretching his legs out and quite similarly resembling a kitten.

“See, the ‘wrestling wildlife’ portion of camp isn’t until next week,” Louis hums, going over to plop down on the bean bag chair beside Harry. “Mind if I…?”

Harry waves Louis off to signal it’s okay, shuffling a bit more to get comfy.

“Why are you here? Did yoga get _too_ relaxing, or something?” Louis asks, knowing he should just shut up and take his bloody nap, but it’s rare that he actually feels civil around The Enemy.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night. Had nightmares about my shorts catching on fire… you know how it is,” Harry murmurs slowly, and even with his eyes shut and body in nap-formation, he still manages to produce a slight shit-eating grin.

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis says with a grin, rolling his eyes and getting cozy as well—and if cozy means laying his head on top of Harry’s thighs, then so be it. It’s not his fault that the wanker decided to take up all the space with his freakishly long limbs.

Louis freezes when Harry moves and adjusts their bodies, moving them into a spooning position. Specifically, so that Louis’ spooning Harry.

“Can I help you?” Louis asks without much amusement in his voice.

Harry hums like he's unfazed and just tugs Louis’ arm tighter around his waist. “If you're going to sleep in my hiding spot, you're going to follow my sleeping rules. I like spooning.”

Louis squints for a moment before retracting his arm and turning over. “Well if we’re going to spoon, then we’ll follow my spooning rules. I like to be spooned,” he says simply, expecting a ‘fuck off’ or something of the sort along with Harry kicking him out. What he doesn't expect is for Harry to actually turn around and wrap his arm around him. 

“Fine,” Harry mumbles, burying his face in Louis’ hair.  
Louis frowns deeply. He actually _hates_ being spooned. He’s the big spoon in every spoon he’s in, and he’d said otherwise just to spite Harry. It wasn’t supposed to bloody _work._

“Fine,” Louis mumbles back, though there really is no need to be so cross when it’s his own fault. He supposes he’ll just have to deal for now, allowing himself to relax in Harry arms and perhaps even leaning back a bit to get more cozy. Not that anyone has to know.

 

 

They both startle awake to the sound of the door closing, wide-eyed and rather confused.

Zayn snorts and shakes his head. “Relax, I’m just getting set up,” he says before walking over to start grabbing boxes of various craft supplies and setting them onto the wooden table.

“We were just napping,” Louis says, quickly pulling out of Harry’s hold just as he tries to push Louis off. 

“Mhm, I saw,” Zayn muses, going over to grab some of the blank mini-canvases all stacked in a bin in the corner. 

“No, really. We were. We were asleep the whole time,” Harry insists, and Louis’ sure they’re just making matters worse, but he can’t exactly stop the need to deny any possible suggestive thoughts Zayn may be having.

“Yeah, I got that. Asleep and spooning. No biggie,” Zayn says with a shit-eating grin, rolling up the sleeves of his dark red flannel as he goes to the little sink in the corner to rinse some paintbrushes.

“That was an accident,” Louis insists, going to stand up and point an accusatory finger at Zayn, then Harry. “No word of this to anyone, got it?”

“I said no biggie, didn’t I? It’s fine, mate. What you two do in your free time is none of my business,” Zayn says as he turns back to set the brushes out on the table, winking up at Louis. “Now get out before the kids get in here,” he orders, shooing them both awaybut giving them knowing looks.

Which makes no sense, really, since there’s nothing to know. 

Louis glares before walking out, not bothering to wait up for Harry. Can’t risk looking suspicious, or anything. Plus, he doesn’t think he can handle seeing much more of Harry in his somehow adorable post-nap form.  


 

**10:25 PM**

 

“Please don’t spill anything on the props—I worked very hard to make them,” one of the Camp Sundance prats whines, watching in fear as Niall’s cup of fruit punch mixed with vodka sloshes around with each step he takes down from the stage. 

Louis was initially against Niall sharing any of his ‘water’ with The Enemy, but he figured it’d be the only way for them to get through a bloody karaoke competition without actually killing each other.

“Okay, can we see a collective score from our panel?” Liam asks, sipping on his drink as well as he looks over at the six counselors. They all whisper to each other before Nick clears his throat and nods at Niall.

“Niall, we’ve agreed upon giving you 8 out of 10. Your impression was spot on—it was like we were actually watching Enrique Iglesias on stage. We could’ve done without the crotch grabs and thrusts, though,” he explains, to which Niall claps and hoots at.

Louis grins and claps Niall on the back. “Congrats, mate. Now one of us just needs to get a 10, and we’re in the lead.”  
“Why don’t you go, hm? Impress ‘em with your Sinatra impression,” Niall urges with a grin, laughing when Louis snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Looks like Harry beat you to it,” Liam interjects, nodding over at Harry typing in a song on the laptop and grabbing for the mic.

“Oh? What’s it gonna be, Pretty Boy?” Louis calls over with a small snort, bracing himself for bloody R.E.M. song just to spite him.

Harry smiles as he flicks the mic back on. “It’s _the_ karaoke songs of karaoke songs—’s always a hit whenever I do it. Hope you don’t mind me taking the win tonight.”

Louis gives an obviously feigned smile as he watches Harry walk up, though his smile fades when a familiar bass riff starts to play. Oh, _fuck_ no.

Niall and Liam gasp and whip their heads over at Louis. “That’s _your_ song.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Louis grumbles, stomping over to hit pause on the song before Harry can even warm up his voice. He glares up at him. “‘Under Pressure’ is _my_ karaoke song.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Oh? You have it copyrighted, or something?”

Louis smiles tightly and cocks his head. “Cute. Choose another.”

“No way. I _always_ do Under Pressure.”

“What—you do Bowie _and_ Mercury?” Louis sneers, though he can’t really say much since he’s guilty of doing the exact same thing. It’s not his fault he has high standards for who he duets with.

Harry shrugs lightly before nodding over to the extra mic laying on the table by the laptop. “Go on, then. Be my Bowie. Let’s see how much this song really belongs to you.”

The hall goes silent at Harry’s challenging words, eyes all following on Louis. And, really, who is he to step down from a challenge? More specifically, who is he to back down from making Harry eat his own words?

Louis shoots back a cold look momentarily before walking over to grab the other microphone, flipping it on and making his way to the stage. “Bad move, Pretty Boy. You don’t know _how_ many Bowie-themed karaoke nights I’ve won.” That’s a lie. He’s not even sure if that’s a thing, but he _does_ know his Bowie is quite good.

“Hm, good. Maybe you’ll be a match for my Mercury, then,” Harry hums back as Liam restarts the song, giving them both a nod. 

Louis keeps his eyes on Harry as he downs the rest of the drink in his cup, setting the empty cup down at the edge of the stage before clearing his throat and returning beside Harry. He waits patiently and listens as Harry starts his little scats, biting down on a small smirk as he counts off in his head before breaking into “ _Pressure!”_ at the same time as Harry. 

And, okay, yes, he’s supposed to hate Harry. Correction: he _does_ hate Harry. But there’s something about doing a duet with someone—let alone of his favorite song—that gets him in a rather chipper mood. That, and the alcohol.

And, alright, maybe the fact that Harry’s stage presence is bloody _unreal_ gets him in an even brighter mood. He’s got stupid grin on his face and is doing bloody ballerina spins as Louis croons, “It’s a terror of knowing what this world is about…”, and. Well, admittedly, he can feel the same mesmerized feeling from the fire-starting challenge as he watches Harry get down on his knees and _shout_ “can’t we give love that one more chance?” and all but moan “Give love, give love, give love, give love” as he eventually lowers himself so he’s nearly on his back, proper grinding against nothing and running a hand over his face and down his body like he can’t stand it. Louis can relate. He’s a bloody vision, is what he is, and Louis nearly forgets what he’s even doing until he hears his part come up.

He finishes the song off with a carefree “love’s such an old-fashioned word” riff, even letting Harry take his hand and spin him around as he does the same. Louis wants to blame his heart beating out of his chest on the alcohol and exertion from singing, but he knows better, even while tipsy.

He and Harry take a bow hand-in-hand once they finish, snickering at the amount of applause and hoots and hollers they get in response. 

Harry drags Louis along off the stage so they can put their mics back, both thrumming with excitement and adrenaline. And alcohol.  
“Your Freddie Mercury was _brilliant_ ,” Louis says with a loopy grin, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. He almost wishes he’d been just a spectator so he could’ve properly appreciated and taken in the magic that is Harry’s stage persona.

“Are you kidding? Your Bowie was unreal, bloody hell,” Harry insists with a shake of his head as well, both of them just kind of lost in staring at each other in amazement until Zayn clears his throat with a smirk.

“Uh, congrats. You both got 10’s. Meaning you’ve put us at a tie,” he says with an eye roll, though even _he’s_ got a grin that he can’t wipe off. He’s sure it has everything to do with Harry. “Shall we do another?”

“Nah, we’ll save it for tomorrow,” Niall insists, waving Zayn off before walking between the two and slapping a hand on their shoulders. “That was _amazing_ , lads, honestly. Never thought I’d see the day Louis would find a fitting Mercury.”

Harry grins a bit sheepishly and shrugs. “Maybe we’ll go into the karaoke-impersonator business,” he chuckles. It’s a joke, obviously, but that doesn’t stop Niall’s eyes from widening in delight.

“Yeah! That’d be sick! You two would be such a dynamic duo—they’ll call you… Larry!”

Harry wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Larry’s the name of, like, some balding middle-aged bloke who wears Hawaiian shirts and dances embarrassingly at barbecues.”

“Careful, H, that’s exactly where you’re headed…” Louis trails off with a smirk, snickering behind the half-full cup he’d managed to take from Liam when he was too busy flirting with Zayn some more.

Harry gives a scrunched-nose look before cocking his head. “Why not… _Lourry._ Three letters from his name, three from mine.”

Louis shrugs as he takes a sip. “Sounds a bit too much like Lou Reed. Could be confusing.”

“Oi, and what do _you_ know about Lou Reed, hm? Let me guess, ‘Sweet Jane’ is the extent of what you can relate to him, yeah?” Harry muses with a taunting grin.

“Oh, please,” Nick quips from behind, popping his head in and shaking his head at Harry. “Don’t act like you’re a music snob, Mr. ‘I-saw-Nickelback-front-row-and-cried’.” 

Harry widens his eyes at Nick and Louis can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his mouth.

“Okay, I may not know be very _cultured_ in music, but at least I never cried at a Nickelback concert,” Louis snorts, taking another sip before cocking his head curiously.

“How come you didn't sing ‘Photograph’ instead, huh?”

“For the same reason you didn’t sing ‘Wonderwall', you prat,” Harry huffs, snorting a bit when Louis squints his eyes. “Oh, don’t act dumb. You were wearing an Oasis tour shirt just the other day.”

Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. “That’s not even my shirt. I just wear it because it’s comfy,” he insists, making a mental not to delete all his old Oasis covers from his teenage YouTube channel when he comes back home.

 

**1:30 AM**

 

Louis’ well-passed tipsy, but everyone’s already fucked off to bed like total losers, so he’s forced to roam over to the kitchen by himself for a little snack.

He’s humming to himself when he walks in, freezing when he sees the fridge open and someone bent over, thinking it might be Ben or James. Luckily, it’s only Harry. Very luckily.

“Hey, you,” Louis says with a grin, shooting some floppy finger guns at Harry before padding over to the pantry. “‘m starved. Have we got any leftover macaroni from lunch?” he asks as he inspects the various non-snackable ingredients in the pantry.

“Mm, I don’t think so. But we have some leftover cookie dough,” Harry says, pulling out a bowl and placing it on the counter as he closes the fridge door with his hip.

Louis beams and nods eagerly, shutting the pantry door and walking over to lean against the counter across from Harry before dipping his finger into the bowl.

“Hey! Wait for the spoons, nasty,” Harry orders with a grimace, turning back to the utensils drawer to pull out two spoons and handing Louis one. 

Louis takes it gratefully, gathering a rather generous scoop and eating it as he watches Harry. He pauses for a moment to inspect every inch of Harry’s face, finally breaking into a snicker once he remembers everything that had happened earlier.

“What? What’s funny?” Harry asks with a pout, and Louis can’t tell if Harry’s as drunk as he is or if he’s just normally this adorable. Or maybe it’s his own drunkenness speaking. Yeah, he’ll go with that.

Louis grins and shrugs his shoulders, reaching his spoon over to help himself to more cookie dough. “‘Sweet Jane’ _is_ the only song I know by Lou Reed.”

Harry pauses for a moment, looking at Louis carefully before barking out a laugh. “You _idiot_. ‘Sweet Jane’ is by The Velvet Underground. His band. ’s not the same as his solo stuff.”

“Oh, look at me, I’m Harry and I know all about Lou Reed and I _love_ Nickelback,” Louis mimics, giggling as Harry gasps and flings a spoonful of cookie dough at him.

Louis gasps with wide eyes before gathering a spoonful and flinging it right back at Harry, snickering brightly when it hits Harry’s Rolling Stones tee, _right_ on the tongue.

“Oh, now you’re _really_ gonna get it,” Harry murmurs lowly before grabbing the bowl of cookie dough and chasing after Louis with a handful.

“Hey, no! You’re gonna make a mess!” Louis yelps as he runs away and around to the other side of the counter, most of his words interrupted by breathless giggles.

He’s not fast enough, though, because Harry’s already pulling him back by the waist from behind and smothering a handful of cookie dough over his face. 

“Sorry, what was that about me loving Nickelback? What’d you say?” Harry quirks, his breath shaking a bit from the laughter he’s trying hard to stifle.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, you’re right! ‘m an idiot who only knows one song by Lou Reed,” Louis huffs out through his laughter, licking at the cookie dough on his mouth before leaning his head back on Harry’s shoulder. “ _Sweeeeet Jaaaaaaaane!_ ”

Harry widens his eyes and claps a hand over Louis’ mouth, hushing him sharply. “Jesus, shut _up_. You’re gonna wake the whole bloody camp.”

Louis laughs some more and tilts his head towards Harry, pushing his hand away before bursting out again with another off-key “ _Sweeeet Jaaaaaaane_!”

Harry looks torn between screaming at Louis and breaking into a fit of laughter, but instead, he completely catches Louis off-guard with a kiss. A _kiss._ Harry’s lips firm on his, his cookie-dough covered hand coming up to cup Louis’ cheek. 

Louis’ shocked at first, but eventually it clicks and he turns in Harry’s hold to clutch at his shirt, tugging him closer and tilting his head.

Harry seems rather taken back by Louis actually kissing him back, humming lightly and letting Louis push him back against the fridge. Things are just turning rather hot and heavy when the light flicks on.

“What the _bloody_ hell is going on?!” Liam grumbles, gasping when he actually sees Louis and Harry. “Jesus. Really, Lou? What happened to not hooking up with any counselors from Sundance, hm?”

Louis widens his eyes once things become more clear, quickly pulling off of Harry and clearing his throat. “We weren’t—we were… I was just, like…”

“I was choking on cookie dough,” Harry steps in with a nod. “Mhm. ’nd he was just helping me.”

“What, by shoving his tongue down your throat?” Liam scoffs, shaking his head as he looks around at the cookie dough on the floor and counters. “You’re so lucky _I_ was the one to come inspect and not Greg. Or James. You’d be _dead_.”

Louis sighs and tips his head back. “Sorry, sorry. Just don’t tell anyone, yeah? Seriously, Li. Please,” he says, to which Liam luckily gives a reluctant nod to. 

“Yeah, fine. Just—clean your mess. ‘nd stop being so bloody loud,” Liam murmurs, giving the two one last look before walking off.

Louis sighs out in relief and runs a hand through is hair before walking over to grab some paper towels.

“What, am I like your dirty little secret now?” Harry asks with a playful eyebrow waggle, and if Louis was sober, he might’ve spotted the hint of hurt and seriousness in his eyes. 

Louis huffs out a small laugh and rolls his eyes, kneeling down to clean the floor. “Don’t look so surprised. We’re in the middle of a competition, aren’t we? Can’t be seen playing nice with The Enemy.”

Harry pauses for a moment before laughing lightly and nodding, turning around to clean the counter. Louis doesn’t have to be sober to recognize a fake laugh versus a real one. “Right, sure.”

They’re quiet for the rest of the clean-up, and Louis’ grateful because now he can reflect on, what he would like to blame as, his drunken actions in peace.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Wednesday**

**3:30 PM**

 

It’s hike time again, and Louis’ managed to get about half of his scheduled group rounded up. The other half, he learns, has apparently joined Harry for some type of baking workshop. As if that’s even a _thing_.

“It’s okay, we don’t need them,” Ryan insists, leaning down to tie one of his already muddy sneakers. 

“Maybe they just forgot. You lot stay here, I’ll just go and remind them,” Louis says, though he’s got some suspicion that they didn’t just _forget_. If he’s being honest, baking and decorating cupcakes actually sounds quite nice and rewarding, but there’s no way in hell he’s letting _his_ kids fall victim to the charm of Harry.

He walks over to the kitchen—which looks quite spotless, thank you very much—and crosses his arms when he sees several of his campers washing their hands and tying aprons on.

“Group E is meeting for a hike now,” Louis says, raising an eyebrow expectantly at the campers who look back at him like deer caught in headlights.

Harry hums as he slips past Louis to grab eggs and a carton of milk from the fridge. “Shouldn’t you be leading them, then?”

“I was talking to the campers, thanks. _My_ campers, that you just so happen to be holding hostage,” Louis huffs, wondering if maybe this is Harry’s way of saying last night’s kiss was a mistake. Fine, whatever. So be it. He was drunk anyways, so obviously it didn’t mean a thing on his part.

“You’re free to join Louis on his hike, if you want,” Harry says with a smile to the campers, who just smile politely and shake their heads in response.

“That’s okay. I still have some bites from yesterday,” one of the boys—Colin, if he remembers correctly—says, adjusting his glasses nervously as he looks back at Louis. “I’m sorry. Is it okay? I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Louis narrows his eyes and momentarily considers denying him just to spite Harry, as always, but he doesn’t want to be _that_ counselor. He sighs lightly before nodding. “Yeah, it’s okay. But next time, if you don’t want to hike, you can maybe do something here with one of our counselors—Amy’s running some volleyball games, and Sebastian has a few campers out at the lake. Don’t those things sound like fun?”

Colin smiles and shrugs before turning back to gather ingredients for himself from the pile Harry’s created. “Maybe later. Harry’s going to teach us how to make chocolate cupcakes with a vanilla filling.”

Louis hums and smiles tightly at Harry. “Well. Isn’t that something,” he says, not missing the ‘your move’ look he spots in Harry’s eyes.“I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says, about to walk out before pausing and turning towards Harry’s campers. “And if any of you would like to come out and get some fresh air, maybe come hiking, you’re more than welcome to come join us.”

Two girls pause in the middle of tying their aprons before grinning and taking them off. 

“I’ve never been hiking before,” one of them says, setting her apron aside.

Harry frowns and looks over at her. “What are you talking about? We have reflection walks along the lake in the evening.”

The girl smiles sheepishly and shrugs. “I mean, like. _Actual_ hiking. In the mountains, and stuff,” she says with an excited grin, tugging her friend along as Louis invitingly waves them over.

“Don’t worry, H. I’ll have them back within an hour—they’re in good hands,” Louis assures with a smug grin, sending a wink back his way before guiding the two girls out and instructing them to get comfy shoes on. 

 

Louis bonds much better with Harry’s campers—Rachel and Tori, he learns—than he expects, getting along with them easily and discussing their shared love of Leonardo DiCaprio. By the end of the hike, they’ve even managed to make friends with some Oakwood campers. Does he feel bad about his campers wanting to be with Harry instead? Eh, not so much. Does he feel good about taking Harry’s campers from him? Absolutely. He supposes this can be his way of responding to Harry’s way of telling him last night was a mistake. This’ll be his way of saying ‘whatever, it’s not like I actually cared, anyways’. Yeah, this’ll be good.

  

**10:20 PM**

 

“Mustard?”

Liam sighs deeply and shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s expired ranch.”

Nick gasps and sheds off his blindfold, immediately spitting into the bucket placed beside him and reaching for the water. “ _Bastard_. I thought we said no expired foods allowed?”

Zayn smiles sheepishly and raises his hand. “That was my fault, actually. I misread the label.”

“ _Eat_ it and weep, Grimshaw,” Greg says with proud grin, patting his stomach and pushing aside his spoon that earlier had some orange-flavored jam. Greg nearly vomited since he’s got the strongest distaste for orange-flavored things, but he at least guessed it right. “Did I or did I not tell you I’ve got the keenest sense of taste, hm? I’ve been head of the kitchen staff here for _years_.”

“Yeah, but you’re always late to meal prep,” Nick mumbles, the few other members of the kitchen staff nod and chuckle in agreement. 

“Alright, so that’s five total correct guesses out of five for Greg, meaning two and a half points go to Camp Oakwood, _meaning_ ,” Liam explains as he tallies up the scores, grinning broadly. “We’re in the lead by four-and-a-half full points.”

“Let’s make it more,” Louis insists, grinning and rubbing his hands together as he sits down, counselors whistling and hooting playfully. “C’mon, Styles, you and me. Let’s see if your baker title is actually credible.”

Harry smiles a bit before shaking his head. “No, thanks.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows bit, cocking his head as he looks up at him. ‘No, thanks’? That’s it? A polite, resigned rejection? In front of bloody everyone? Well. A dagger to his chest would probably hurt less, Louis imagines.

“I’ll do it,” one of the Sundance counselors says—the same one that was complaining about the props last night—as he going to sit across from Louis.

Louis can’t exactly say _no_ , or else he’ll look suspicious, but he does spare Harry a confused look as he watches him walk away from the front of the crowd to talk to some other counselors instead.

It’s… whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’s competing The Enemy now. It’s what he wanted in the first week, after all, so he should be happy.

Yeah. Of course he’s happy. He doesn’t need Harry here to prove it.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Thursday**

**9:30 AM**

 

Louis walks into the dining hall with a yawn, rubbing a fist over his eyes andscratching at his stomach with his other hand as he goes to grab a tray and load up his plate. He raises an eyebrow when he sees a platter of what looks like freshly-baked muffins.

“Since when do you bake?” he asks Greg as he fills up the rest of his plate with fruit.

Greg chuckles and shakes his head, restocking the tray of scrambled eggs. “Wasn’t me. Harry came in early this morning to make them.”

Louis raises an eyebrow before looking around, frowning a bit when he doesn’t spot him at his usual table. He thanks Greg before walking over to his table with Niall and Liam, raising his eyebrows lightly when he sees Liam and Zayn sat along with Harry standing by them talking and laughing about something. 

He purses his lips as he walks by, clearing his throat and setting his tray down, glancing up at Harry hesitantly as he sits down.

Harry’s eyes shift away as he stands up straight. “Alright, I’ll see you lads later,” he says before walking off.

Louis closes his eyes and sighs deeply, running a hand over his face. He tries not to think too hard about it. It’s nothing—Harry just didn’t feel in the mood to compete last night, and he just needed to get going right now. It was nothing against _Louis_ personally. 

But, hypothetically, if it was… well, the thought alone is eating Louis alive, to say the least. All because of a bloody kiss? Or was it the ‘dirty little secret’? Or was stealing campers away the last straw? Whatever he did, he regrets it. He regrets making it so Harry doesn’t even want to spare a glance at him in the bloody dining hall. He regrets a lot of things, and the worst part of it all is that he _shouldn’t_. Not when it’s only bloody week two. 

“God, what’d you _do_?” Zayn murmurs, taking a bite of his bagel.

Louis shakes his head, looking back at Harry once before sighing again. “I don’t know.”

“They kissed last night,” Liam mumbles around his mouthful of muffin, shrugging when Louis shoots him a death glare. “Zayn knows about you two, already. Told me about that cuddling thing.”

Louis groans and tips his head back. He really oughta be more clear when he says ‘don’t tell anyone’. 

“So, you two are having like, a proper fling?” Zayn questions, reaching for his coffee.

Louis sighs and shakes his head. “No,” he says, though—are they? Is that what the kiss insinuated? Is that why Harry’s been standoffish? Has he been waiting for Louis to make the next move? “I don’t know.”

Zayn and Liam laugh and shake their heads, and Louis wonders how it’s possible for two strangers to already act like such a couple.

“There’s no shame in that. Summer flings are a thing, mate,” Zayn assures with a nod, setting his mug down and reaching for his bagel again. 

“But, like. Remember it’s a _fling_ , yeah? Don’t get too attached or anything. I don’t want you getting your heartbroken over some summer romance—I mean, how cliche would _that_ be?” Liam snorts, nudging Zayn slightly. Louis’ confused as to what that’s supposed to even mean, but he drops it and focuses on Liam’s words.

Right. If he’s going to do anything else with Harry, he needs to remember it’s _summer_. No one looks for a bloody relationship in the _summer_.

Now it’s just a matter of actually getting Harry to talk to him again.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Friday**

**10:20 PM**

 

Louis sits by the bonfire as the rest of the counselors watch Eleanor and Amy eagerly competing at a knot-tying contest. It’s a close-one, he imagines, due to the noises he’s hearing from the crowd, but he’s not even in the mood to make cheer his own team on. 

Harry hadn’t joined them for their post-bonfire competition. He’d said he wasn’t up for it, which is… fine. This whole thing was never just about Harry, anyways. It was about competing against Sundance counselors and proving their authority, but—dammit, now everyone’s getting along and becoming friends, and he just wants to bloody get things straight. The kiss, the spooning, the ‘dirty little secret’—the everything. Them. Whatever. He’s just _tired._

Louis sighs and gets up from where he’s sitting, figuring no one will even notice if he slips away for a bit. He decides against going straight to his cabin, knowing it’d be the first place they’d check if they wanted to find him, and he’d much rather just have privacy for a bit.

He walks through some trees that are a shortcut to the dock and lake, picking up some little stones and rocks on the way. He pads over towards the edge of the dock and flicks his wrist, watching the stone skip and cause the water to ripple a few times before sinking down. He continues to do it mindlessly, just trying to occupy his mind with anything else that _doesn’t_ involve Harry.

He’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t even realize the clothes laying idly on the dock beside him, furrowing his eyebrows as he inspects them and simultaneously tossing another rock. He gasps when he hears an ‘ _ah_ , shit’, widening his eyes and whipping his head out to the waters. Sure enough, Harry’s head is above and he’s got a hand covering his forehead.

“Oh—fuck, sorry! I didn’t know you were out here,” Louis apologizes, dropping the rest of his rocks and holding his hands up in surrender as if Harry would assume Louis had plans to pelt him with various rocks and stones.

Harry stays silent for a moment when he realizes it’s Louis before letting out a light chuckle. “It’s fine. I was just swimming a few laps—’s not as roomy in the pool as it is here.”

“Mm, that’s typically the case when it comes to pools versus lakes,” Louis muses with a small grin, laughing when Harry glares and tries to splash Louis from afar. Louis grins and looks back down. He almost feels guilty in a way for having such casual conversation without addressing the problems he’d had in his mind, but there’s no way he’s going to mess up whatever they’ve got going on now. “So. Cool undies. Would be a shame if someone just… kicked them into the water, wouldn’t it?”

Harry huffs and rolls his eyes. “By all means, help yourself. I’d _love_ to have the honor of shaving you bald.”

“Oi, it doesn’t count as a prank if you _know_ about it beforehand,” Louis insists, moving to sit at the edge of the dock. He pulls his vans off and sets them aside, letting his bare feet and exposed calves splash in the water. “How come you haven’t been competing?” 

Harry swims over just a tad closer so it’s easier to understand each other, but he keeps a comfortable distance. “Just haven’t been feeling it anymore, I guess. Seems like it’s becoming more of an excuse to get to know each other, anyways.”

“Oh, and you don’t want to get to know any Oakwood counselors?” Louis quirks with a cocked eyebrow. 

Harry rolls his eyes and dunks his head underwater momentarily before reemerging and floating back a bit, looking identical to a Baby Tarzan. “Not all of us are as snooty as _you_ , y’know. I’ve actually gotten to know quite a bit of your counselors—made brownies with Amy and Vanessa just the other day. Plus, Liam and Niall have been joining Zayn’s afternoon arts and crafts sessions,” he says casually.

“Wait, what?! No way. They both have hikes to lead,” Louis insists with a frown.

Harry grins and shrugs as he floats a bit more on his back, careful of not flashing his dick. “I may’ve taken over some of their hiking groups for a yoga session. They seem to like it a lot—no bug bites, either.”

Louis gapes as he shakes his head slowly. “Unbelievable. Do you realize you’re _depriving_ my dear campers of _real_ outdoor experience? How do you sleep at night?”

“Preferably in a spooning position,” Harry quips back, winking up at Louis before swimming closer. “Relax. Some of my campers have taken up your activities, too. I reckon they had an Oakwood versus Sundance volleyball game earlier today. Plus, I think Rachel and Tori have a crush on you. They never knew it was possible to meet such an attractive bloke who’s so open to talk about Leonardo DiCaprio…”

“Okay, okay. That’s enough,” Louis insists, making a mental note to tell the girls ‘what’s discussed during hikes _stays_ on the hike’. He rolls his eyes as Harry gasps and reaches for Louis’ hand, already preparing himself for something ridiculous.

“You must do me this honor… promise me you will survive… that you’ll never give up…” Harry gasps dramatically, Louis nearly biting his bottom lip off to keep the threatening grin away. 

“Shut up.”

“… no matter what happens… no matter how hopeless,” Harry croaks, dunking his head down a few times for dramatic effect. “Promise me now, and never let go of that promise.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or annoyed with you right now.”

“Never let go,” Harry continues without even acknowledging Louis’ comments, squeezing Louis’ hand tightly as he looks up at him with desperate eyes.

Louis purses his lips, trying to look unamused, but eventually giving in and leaning down. “I promise. I will never let go, Jack. I will neve—” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, on account of the fact that Harry’s just pulled him down into the water with him. “You _wanker_!” he gasps once he’s floated back up, though he bursts into a fit of laughter.

“See, that’s how the movie _should’ve_ ended,” Harry says, turning his head out to the lake. “Yeah, I’m talking to _you_ , Rose. You inconsiderate _bitch_.”  
“I reckon the movie would be much different if it took place in a _lake_ ,” Louis snickers, whacking Harry’s shoulder as he stifles his laugh and goes to climb up the ladder and back onto the dock.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Harry tuts, dunking his head down before spitting water up towards Louis.

Louis grins and rolls his eyes, shedding off his shirt and jean shorts. “Just getting cozy,” he insists, pausing once he’s got his hands on the waistband of his briefs before deciding _fuck it_ and tugging them off as well.

Harry whistles as he swims onto his back so he can get a full look, not even trying to be mindful of his dick popping up out of the water anymore. “I’m liking the view from here.”

“Yeah? Think fast,” Louis says with a cheeky grin before jumping off the ledge straight for Harry’s floating body. Harry widens his eyes and quickly swims—more like _flops_ —away, though he’s nearly wheezing with laughter.

“Jesus. You’re going to risk drowning me for the sake of being a prat?” 

“What’s life without a few risks, Harold?” Louis sighs dreamily before splashing water towards Harry’s face with a grin, Harry immediately splashing Louis back. 

It starts with splashes, but then turns into some type of underwater wrestling—Harry grabbing Louis’ waist from underwater and pulling him down and Louis turning them around and putting Harry in a headlock. It’s an excuse to grab each other, if Louis’ being realistic with himself, but he’d much rather live in his own denial and go with the idea of it just being some friendly wrestling.

That is, until their lips find each other and Harry’s kissing Louis up against the ladder. Louis should be concerned with the fact that their dicks keep accidentally rubbing up against each other, but he’s more concerned with the unspoken words and concerns they’d left unattended.

“Wait, wait,” Louis says, pulling back from Harry’s lips. He sighs when Harry looks at him with a confused, furrowed-brow look. God, does he _always_ have to be so devastatingly handsome? 

Harry pulls away and swims back to give Louis some space, but he stays close enough to listen.

Louis purses his lips as he swims to float across from him, looking at him momentarily. “About that kiss—the one in the kitchen.”  
Harry sighs deeply and closes his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry about that, Lou. I feel terrible. You were drunk and I was just a bit tipsy and you were so close and your lips were there and—I mean, I should’ve known better than to do that. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows before barking out a small laugh. “No, no. You’re fine. It’s fine. I think part of me wanted that since the night I caught my shorts on fire,” he assures, though he finds comfort in the fact that Harry’s so genuinely apologetic about it. “I just… I wanted to clear up—like. I dunno. I’m sorry if I said something that…”

Harry raises his eyebrows a bit in surprise before brightening up when he realizes Louis has no problem with the actual kiss itself, smiling widely and shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize. Really, Lou, it’s fine,” he assures, sighing gently in relief. “How about we just forget that happened, yeah? Drunken kisses never happened.”

Louis tries to mask his disappointment because _this_ isn’t how he wanted it to pan out. He didn’t mean to make it seem like he wanted to _forget_ it, but. Well, he figures this is as good as it’ll get. “Drunken kisses never happened,”he repeats, putting on a small smile.

Harry smiles contently and nods, inspecting Louis’ face momentarily before swimming a bit closer and darting his eyes towards Louis’ lips. “But… _this_ one will, yeah?” he says gently, green eyes finding their way back up to Louis’. 

Louis feels breathless for a moment, thrown off and stupidly speechless. He nods slowly, almost robotically, before letting his hands find their way to Harry’s cheeks, tilting his head as Harry’s head tilts the opposite way, and _god_ , it’s perfect. There’s no lingering taste of alcohol or unsteady touches or cookie dough sticking to them. It’s just Harry’s lips cradling his own and working together like they were meant to. Harry’s lips are just so _supple_ and _inviting_. He could kiss them for the rest of his life, really.

Harry’s the first to pull away, and he looks at Louis almost as if he needs to ensure that it’s actually him and this a thing that’s actually happening.

“Hi,” Louis says breathlessly, a faint smile forming on his lips.

Harry can only grin and nod dumbly in response, leaning back in to kiss Louis again.

They kiss and touch and kiss again and it’s nothing more than lips and fingertips innocently exploring each other by the moonlight, but it’s certainly the greatest thing Louis’ ever experienced.

They lay on the dock after a while, backs against wood and feet splashing in the water as they wait for their clothes to properly dry. They talk about camp for a while—stories from past experiences and encounters with campers. Then they start talking about more personal things—jobs and their hometown and what they plan to do with the rest of their lives. He shouldn’t feel so comfortable opening up like this to an essential stranger, but he also doesn’t think Harry’s a stranger anymore. At least, he doesn’t want him to be.

“How’d you get into being a camp counselor in the first place, anyways?” Harry asks as he moves to comfortably lay on his stomach on top of a pile his clothes. If Louis stares long enough, he’s sure he can make constellations from the freckles along Harry’s back. 

“Well, I’ve always loved camp. It was something I could always look forward to, yeah? ‘cause like, my parents were divorced so it was just me and my mum for a while taking care of my sisters. And don’t get me wrong, I love my family to bits. But it was just nice—y’know, as a young bloke—to be able to get away for a bit and just… like, hang out with random kids my age outdoors. Forget about responsibilities a bit,” Louis says, shrugging lightly as he closes his eyes. “I suppose I just didn’t want to leave once I hit the age limit. I wanted to be able to be there for another kid’s experience and memories—wanted to be apart of something that’d once made _me_ happy.”

Harry’s quiet for a bit, and Louis has to peep an eye open to check if he’s even awake anymore. He is, and he’s smiling across at Louis. It’s like staring into the sun.

“That’s really nice,” Harry says in genuine tone, moving to shift onto his side to face Louis. “I never went to camp, but I always wanted to. I wanted the typical camp experience—yours, really. The hiking and the tug-of-war and shared bunk beds and all. And, like, obviously Sundance isn’t _that_ kind of camp. At all. But in a way, it kinda worked out because I feel like I wouldn’t be able to relate enough to the kids to give them a great experience, y’know? I know nothing about hiking or knot-tying or bear traps or whatever. So, it’s kinda cool doing all this different stuff with Sundance and, like, sparking new interests for these kids who feel lost or unfit for anywhere else, like I once did.”

Well. Now Louis just feels shitty about giving Harry a hard time in the first place. 

“Sorry for being a dick about everything that first week,” Louis says with a scrunched nose, turning towards Harry. “I’m just a bit protective over Oakwood. As much as I’d like to deny it, these types of camps are going out of trend quite easily—camps in general, it seems. I dunno what I’ll do if it ever closes down.”

Harry smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I said it all worked out, didn’t I? I mean, these competitions we’ve been having, the camp rivalry… it’s all thirteen-year-old me could ever want.”

“And the snogging by the lake?” Louis quirks with a cheeky grin.

Harry grins back and nods. “That was just a bonus,” he says, leaning in to kiss Louis gently. “A huge bonus.”

Louis grins all smitten and crinkly-eyed, grateful he can’t see himself because he’s sure he’d just melt from embarrassment. He shifts a bit closer, placing his hand on Harry’s neck as he kisses him slowly. He’s about suggest they move things to somewhere more private when he hears gasps from behind them. They both whip their heads back and instinctively cover their dicks as if it’s campers sneaking up on them. They sigh out in relief when they see it’s just Zayn, Liam, and Niall—though, really, that doesn’t make the situation _much_ better.

“See! I _knew_ they were banging!” Niall insists with a grin and crossed arms, which is quite ironic considering he was the last out of the three to really catch onto anything.

“We just went skinny dipping,” Louis insists, sitting up and starting to gather his clothes, and pull his shirt on. “You wankers always try to make things seem like something they’re not,” he tuts, standing up after he manages to pull his shorts on as well—commando, considering he’s just going to hop into the shower anyways.

“Mhm. Like you two _weren’t_ just about to fuck right there on the dock,” Niall accuses with a grin, shaking his head at the two as Harry sighs and reluctantly gets dressed and stands up, too.

“You’re funny,” Louis murmurs, walking past Harry and the other three to make a beeline for the bathrooms, not really up for more interrogation or reminders of what they’re certainly _not_ doing and _haven’t_ done yet. Louis doesn’t even take into account the way he just left Harry, groaning inwardly at how he’s managed to fuck up a situation they’d _just_ patched up.

He’ll worry about that in the morning, though.

 

 

**Week 2**

**Saturday**

**10:30 AM**

 

Luckily, the schedules are much more lenient on the weekends. 

No scheduled hikes or 9 AM breakfasts. Just some group activities here and there that require little to no physical exertion. 

“Hey, we’re all going for a swim later before lunch,” Zayn says, nudging Louis side with his elbow as they wait in line to get their meal trays.

“Mm, I think I’ll sit that out. Thanks, though,” Louis murmurs, still feeling a bit groggy and grumpy from last night.

Zayn rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “That wasn’t an _invite_. There’ll be no campers on the campsite,” he says, raising an expectant eyebrow at Louis before huffing out a breath of frustration. “You two can finally fool around in the cabins, idiot.”

Louis widens his eyes once it clicks. Well, once Zayn clicks it for him. He bites his lip and looks around, shrugging lightly as he turns back to grab his tray. “I don’t know if he’s even up for that anymore. I acted like an idiot, again.”

“You’re _both_ acting like idiots, and it’s because because of all the bloody sexual tension that started from day one. So, do us _all_ a favor, and get off with him in the next few hours,” Zayn murmurs quietly, smiling and nodding at Greg before reaching to pile some food on his plate.

“Thanks for your blessing,” Louis mumbles a bit sarcastically, though he truly is a bit grateful for this push that he so badly needed. He’s sure there are a million and one _other_ reasons besides just ‘sexual tension’ that account for how _off_ they’ve been acting around each other, but he’s at least willing to try the whole getting off thing because. Well. Dammit, he’s been craving Harry’s body since the night he caught his shorts on fire. It’s symbolism, Louis’ sure.

He makes a point not to talk to Harry at breakfast, sure that he’d just make the situation worse by saying something dumb. Instead, he just talks amongst the—now _combined_ —group of counselors at his table, occasionally sparing a few glances Harry’s way because he’s only human.

 

**12:50 PM**

 

Louis’ in his cabin tapping his fingers against his thighs nervously as he paces. The counselors are rounding up all the campers now to head over to the lake as a group, and Louis’ got a minimal amount of time to think of a non-idiotic way to approach and apologize to Harry. Great, yeah. He can do this.

He takes a deep breath before stepping out, the lads giving him knowing glances and winks as they count off each of the campers in their groups. 

“Hey,” Zayn says, nudging Louis to get his attention and looking around subtly. “He’s in the arts and crafts room cleaning around for me, if you wanna go talk to him first.”

Louis nods slowly, looking back at the warmly-lit room due to the massive windows along the sides. “Cool. Thanks,” he says, starting to set off for the room. 

Zayn pulls him back, pointing a finger up at him. “Don’t fuck in there. I mean it. I’ll know,” he says carefully, giving Louis _a look_ before letting go and sending him off. “Go. Don’t make things worse.”

Louis lets out a breathless, if not slightly nervous, laugh and raises his hands in defense. “Could’ve told me that before,” he says playfully, waving him off before walking over to the arts and crafts room. He contemplates knocking on the door first before deciding against it and just walking in, smiling gently when Harry looks back at him and closing the door.

“Not gonna go swimming?” Harry asks, placing the freshly-cleaned paintbrushes in the small container before going over to gather and sort the clean and dirty aprons.

“No, not today,” Louis says, walking around the room idly and looking around at the various new paintings and sculptures hanging up. He sighs before looking back at Harry, reaching over to grab his wrist. “Hey. I’m sorry about how I left things last night.”

Harry pauses for a moment as if he doesn’t actually buy that Louis means it before sighing lightly and nodding. “It’s okay. You panicked. ’s understandable,” he says with a light smile before turning around to continue sorting.

“Yeah, no. It’s not understandable. I can’t just—like, _leave_ you like that and let you take all the responsibility and act like I didn’t have anything to do with you,” Louis says, though he stops himself and reexamines his words, wondering if maybe he’s seeming too clingy now or like _too much_. It’s just a fling, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare Harry off before they can even get it started. “I’m sorry, okay? I want us to keep doing what we’re doing,” he says carefully, his eyes watching Harry for his reaction.

Harry pauses and turns back slowly, a light grin curling on his lips as he cocks his head. “And what exactly are we doing?” he asks.

Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry before sighing deeply with a small smirk, shrugging as he looks off to some of the art on the wall. “I mean. It’s more of what we’re _not_ doing…”

Harry bites down on a grin, clearing his throat as he sets down the aprons in his hands. “There are lots of things we aren’t doing. Kayaking, iceskating, salsa dancing… you’ll have to be more specific,” he insists, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. And, okay. If Louis wants to play hard to get, he’s surely going to pay along. It’s the least he can do.

Louis hums and shrugs his shoulders, walking over to grip the counter on either side of Harry’s hips and pinning him into place. “‘m thinking more skin-on-skin contact, y’know?”

“Wrestling?” Harry quirks with a raised eyebrow, keeping his arms crossed as he looks down at Louis.

Louis tips his head back and huffs dramatically as Harry cracks a full grin, eventually giving in with a roll of his eyes and wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

“Well. I didn’t think you’d give in _this_ fast,” Louis tuts with a smirk as he feels Harry kissing against his neck, nipping gently at the delicate skin before sucking right over his pressure point. Louis’ eyes flutter shut instinctively, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he brings a hand up so he can thread his fingers through Harry’s hair. “C’mon, let’s go to the cabins.”

“Why? It’s so much naughtier here,” Harry drawls playfully with a wink, laughing when Louis huffs and pokes at his waist.

“You’re gross. Z will kill us if we do anything in here,” Louis insists, though Harry’s already working his lips over the sweet spot on the other side of his neck

“Oh, you call him _Z_ now? Look at you, bonding with _The Enemy_ ,” Harry whispers conspiratorially, grinning when Louis flicks his head.

“I’ll _show_ you bonding,” Louis mumbles, tilting his head to the side to give Harry more access before reaching down to start working at the button of Harry’s shorts.

That must trigger something in him because Harry freezes for a moment before immediately lifting Louis up and wrapping his legs around his waist, walking until he has him pressed against a cabinet before kissing him deeply.

“How’ve we wasted so much time already,” Harry mumbles, his hand slipping under Louis’ shirt and feeling along his skin as he kisses hastily along his jaw.

“I reckon ’s cause you were too busy serving us mush for breakfast and hiding our real food,” Louis breathes out, coming out more as a pant from how utterly breathless he feels just from Harry’s lips on his neck. He reaches to lift Harry’s shirt, struggling a bit but properly pulling it off after a few trials and errors. 

“You started it,” Harry insists, shedding Louis’ shirt off as well before continuing to kiss him desperately again. Louis whines against his lips, fingers tangling eagerly in his hair.

“Zayn’ll kill us,” he mumbles against Harry’s lips, but by the way Harry’s fingers are fumbling with the button of Louis’ shorts, he doesn’t seem to be too concerned.

“It’ll be worth it,” Harry replies before carefully setting Louis down so they can both just take off their shorts on their own. Simple, but effective.

Harry wraps his arms back around Louis, tugging him closer and closer until Louis pushes him back so he falls against the bean bag chairs. Harry groans and covers his face to try and hide a grin. 

“Do _not_ tell me you’re going to make me come while on a bean bag chair,” Harry murmurs, hands immediately gripping Louis’ hips when he moves to straddle his waist.

“It’s either here or on the craft table, ‘nd I don’t think either of us want splinters,” Louis hums back before positioning himself so their crotches are lined up together, figuring it’s the easiest and cleanest way to go that’ll prevent them from accidentally leaving any evidence. 

He leans down to kiss Harry again, hand cupping his jaw as he starts rolling his hips. Harry groans against Louis’ lips, fingers roaming all along his back and nails trailing their way back down with each movement.

“Couldn’t stop staring at your bum that first day,” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips, licking across Louis’ bottom lip as he hitches a leg up around Louis’ waist to tug him down closer.

“Yeah? I caught myself on fire ‘cause I was staring at your biceps,” Louis admits breathlessly, a small grin forming on his lips as he grinds down a bit harder once Harry tugs him closer, his lips immediately parting to let out a slow whimper.

Harry widens his eyes—partially from shock from Louis’ confession and partially from the heavenly noises coming from Louis’ mouth. “Jesus,” he murmurs, leaning in to lick at the mark he’d made on Louis’ neck. “That first day when you were defending your camp ‘nd about how girls can like outdoorsy stuff, too—”

“You mean, when I made you look like a complete arse in front of everyone?” Louis quirks with a playful smirk, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he feels Harry grinding his hips up along with Louis’, their cocks perfectly lined up against each other.

“ _God_ , that was hot. Had to go back to my table with a stiffy and everything,” Harry groans, reaching down to grip Louis’ hips firmly to try and get some control, but Louis makes sure to make his movements too quick for Harry to direct.

“Karaoke night, when you were going bloody crazy during your Mercury part. I reckon I could get off from just watching you do that on stage all day, really,” Louis huffs, eyes shut tightly and face screwed in pleasure as their hips move at a steady, fluid pace. “ _Fuck_.”

Harry swallows thickly as he tries to compose himself, parting his lips into a perfect ‘o’. “I— _oh—_ have to distract myself whenever you come back from a hike, all sweaty and dirty and fucking _smiley_ with your campers.”

Louis manages to peep an eye open at that, furrowing his eyebrows before laughing and burying his face in Harry’s neck. “My smile? You get off on my smile?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry hisses out, starting to sweat a bit as he rolls his hips up a bit more eagerly. “Your smile, your laugh, your insults, your face when I make a cheeky comment. Your everything. _You,_ ” Harry rambles, and—god. Louis quite literally goes dry in the throat and feels his hips twitch as his orgasm starts building already.

“ _Harry_ ,” he whines quietly, keeping his face hidden in Harry’s neck.

“‘m serious. I can’t get you off my bloody mind. Not since that first day. Fucking everything about you, Lou,” Harry grunts, and, okay. Call Louis superficial for getting off on compliments, but it only takes a few more rough, languid grinds until Louis’ hips are stuttering against Harry’s and he’s gasping out with an orgasm. To make matters worse, that seemed to have been the one thing Harry needed to set off his orgasm as well, so it’s just a mess of twitching hips and broken moans and fingertips digging into each other’s skin.

“Oh my god,” Louis groans, keeping his face buried in Harry’s neck as Harry keeps his face buried in Louis’ hair. He keeps his eyes shut, letting himself just drift a bit before coming down from his orgasm high and laughing breathlessly against Harry’s skin. “Fuck. I haven’t gotten off like that in… years. Like, proper teenage years.”

Harry huffs out a small breathless laugh as well, tugging Louis into a cuddling position so they’re holding each other rather than Louis straddling Harry’s lap still. “’s fun, isn’t it?” Feels a bit gross, though,” he murmurs with a wrinkled nose, Louis nodding lazily in agreement because he can already feel his briefs sticking to his skin.

“Shower?” Louis suggests after a moment, Harry tilting his head to grin up and nod at Louis with a knowing look—a look that shows they both have the same thing on their mind.

Round two.

 

 

**Week 3**

**Friday**

**7:48 PM**

 

From then on, it’s sneaking out during ‘competition time’ at night to fuck around literally _anywhere_ unoccupied. 

The lake is one of their favorite spots to just kiss each other breathlessly and rub up against each other like it's the only thing that'll satisfy their itch. They share blowjobs in the kitchen after licking chocolate sauce off each other’s necks, and Louis can’t stop thinking about the sounds Harry makes for days. Harry sucks Louis off in the rec hall with all the lights turned off so that the stars can peek in from the high windows, but those aren’t the only stars he sees that night. Then it’s sneaky snogs in-between—making out by the showers right after Louis’ hikes, or behind the arts and crafts room right before Harry’s scheduled yoga session.  
It’s bloody _amazing_ , and Louis can’t be more grateful for whichever gods made Harry’s camp close down for renovations.

They’ve just finished dinner and started clearing their tables, Harry giving Louis’ waist a squeeze as he grabs their trays. They eat together now, which somehow makes his normal meal group—one he’s had for _years_ —feel _complete_. Harry banters with the lads like he’s been here this entire time, and Zayn teases and taunts him as if he’s known him his entire life. Louis doesn’t know how they managed to get it so good, but he’s sure glad they did.

“See you in a bit,” Harry says as he bumps Louis’ hip, Louis grinning and bumping Harry back.

“See you,” he says, watching Harry head off to put their empty dishes and trays away before sighing contently, leaning against the table. He’s not smitten. He’s not lovestruck or hopelessly endeared or anything of the sort. At least, that’s what he’s forced to tell himself any time he’s left with the realization that they’ve only got one more week together. Seven more days of this dreamlike bliss, and then… and then, that’s it. Camp is over. Bliss is over. _They’re_ over.

And, much to his dismay, the blokes won’t let him forget it.

“Have you talked to him about it yet?” Liam asks subtly once Harry has gone off to the kitchen to help clean some of the dishes, because that’s just who he is.

“What’s there to talk about? There’s nothing _I_ need to talk about,” Louis insists, though he knows better than to lie to Liam.

“Louis, it’s gonna be bad if you let things build and keep ‘em for the last possible second to deal with,” Liam says with a cocked brow, sighing when Louis just waves him off and continues wiping off the table. He wonders how _Liam_ would feel if he started badgering him with questions about him and Zayn. Then again, they both know how entirely different they are. Louis’ always been the one to have these unwarranted bursts of affection and love for someone he’s only just met, and Liam’s always been the one to pick up the pieces after. He can imagine how tiring it can get, but—dammit, can’t he just _pretend_ for a while when he’s just got seven days left?

If things turn bad, then they’ll turn bad. It’s not like he’d been expecting a fairytale ending to these past few weeks. 

Yet, as stupid as it seems, he can’t deny the bit of hope he gets anytime Harry cradles his cheek gently for a kiss, or the moment after they fuck when they just kind of stare into each other’s eyes and laugh and smile like they’d just done something brilliant. He can’t deny the greedy cravings he’s getting to have Harry not only in the bunks or arts and crafts room or lake, but also in his own queen-sized bed at home and the cafe just down the street and the back of a cab when they come back from dinner.

He’s contributing to his own downfall, and he knows it. But for now, he’d just like to live in ignorant bliss and pretend that he isn’t.

 

 

**Week 4**

**Thursday**

**4:46 PM**

 

It’s a rare occasion that the counselors have something planned for all the campers to do as a group again, so when the counselors announce a Sundance versus Oakwood olympic style competition, Louis and Harry make the most of it.

And, yeah, Louis feels bad about skipping out on another group activity, but he knows he’d feel even worse sacrificing his last few moments with Harry. 

They emerge from under the covers, all red in the face and breathless from the cramped yet strategically angled simultaneous handjobs. They considered maybe saving any sexual activities for tomorrow on their last proper night at camp, but they figured it’d be too hectic with packing and helping the campers pack and the end-of-camp bonfire party. 

They considered leaving it for tomorrow on their proper last night at camp, but they figured it’d be too hectic with packing and helping the campers pack and the end-of-camp bonfire party. 

Louis figures maybe it’s best to end things on a sexless note, anyways—keep him from craving Harry’s body any more than he knows he eventually will.

“We’ve got a bit longer till dinner. Round two?” Harry quirks with a playful grin, already starting to kiss along Louis’ neck and behind his ear.

Louis grins with his eyes fluttered shut, reaching up to tangle his fingers in his curls. “You just never stop, hm?”

“Can you blame me? Tomorrow’s our last day,” Harry hums, and Louis almost wants to open his mouth and say something. He’s tempted to just ask _why_ it has to be their last day, but his thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, immediately, covering Harry with the blanket.

“’s just me,” Liam says with his hands up surrender, laughing lightly before walking over to grab his bag and rummage through it for something. 

“Oh, hey,” Harry says, popping his head out with a bright grin before starting to nuzzle and kiss against Louis’ neck again. Louis grins and is about to lean down to catch Harry’s lips with his own until he catches Liam’s eye. Liam has a cocked eyebrow and challenging expression, almost as if to ask, ‘what are you going to do?’ before walking out.

Louis sighs and pulls away, pushing Harry lightly when he tries coming in close again.

“Heeeey. Thought we were going for a second round,” Harry pouts, starting to kiss along Louis’ shoulder. Louis sighs and sits up to start gathering his clothes. 

“We should get out there now,” Louis murmurs, tugging on his shirt before crawling out of bed to pull on his briefs as well.

Harry seems lost for a moment, inspecting Louis’ face carefully before sighing deeply and closing his eyes. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“What?” Louis asks with a frown, looking back at Harry as he starts to tug his shorts on.

Harry snorts and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair before sitting up to start gathering his clothes as well. “One of our friends catch us ‘nd suddenly it’s like… like you want nothing to do with me anymore. Like you’re bloody ashamed of me, or something,” Harry mumbles, tugging his shirt on before searching for his briefs.

“What?! I’m not _ashamed_. I just think perhaps not everyone wants to watch us snog and feel each other up. But yeah, okay. Sorry. _I’m_ the inconsiderate one,” Louis snorts, shaking his head slightly as he crosses his arms. “It’s not like we’re even a proper couple, or anything,” he adds in a mumble, mostly to remind himself because he’s bloody _scared_. He’s sure he’s never wanted someone so bad, yet it seems as if he’s the one person he can’t have. So, of course, the only answer is to make it clear that they are _not_ together.

Harry glares back at Louis for a moment before climbing out of his bed, tugging on his briefs and shorts without sparing another look for him. “Thank God for that,” he mutters before storming off.

Louis feels his throat starting to feel dry and his stomach turn at that. He doesn’t have to be a genius to understand the meaning. In a perfect world, one of them would suggest maybe continuing on with a proper relationship after camp and staying in touch. They’d realize how much they actually adore each other and how they can’t really imagine life without each other and end up together, officially. But ‘thank God for that’? The words hollow him out and make his heart ache in the worst of ways because he never thought Harry would think _that_ way of him. Because he didn’t think it would hurt _this_ bad to have to leave. Worst of all, because he actually had hope. 

Louis swallows thickly and buries his face in his hands, permitting himself a small little cry because he’s _upset_ , okay? He’s gotten closer and opened up to this amazing guy who’s actually _thankful_ they aren’t together. He can’t imagine a better reason to cry at the moment.

 

**7:20 PM**

 

Louis sits off in one of the smaller corner tables during dinner, not exactly in the mood to be questioned about his sulky mood or why his face is all red and splotchy, or where he’s been for the past few group events.

He forks at one of the meatballs in his spaghetti, still feeling so sick to his stomach from Harry’s words ringing in his head.

“Louis?” he hears a voice question carefully, quickly whipping his head up and plastering a smile on his voice when he sees Ryan.

“Hey, pal. What’s up?” Louis asks, reaching for his water to have a sip.

Ryan frowns lightly and goes to sit across from Louis. “Is everything okay? Niall was the referee for our footie game—you’re _always_ referee.”

Louis smiles tightly and nods, setting his glass down and picking up his fork. “I’m fine. Just feeling a bit under the weather,” he says, even though he _knows_ Ryan can see through the bullshit considering he’d played volleyball with some of the campers just earlier in the morning. 

“You don’t have to sugarcoat anything. I’m 15 years old, y’know. I can take it,” Ryan assures with a solemn nod, pausing for a moment and looking behind him before looking back at Louis with slightly narrowed eyes. “Is it that Harry guy from Sundance?”

Louis almost wants to question how Ryan even knew to ask about that, but he figures he wasn’t so subtle in the earlier weeks about his annoyance towards the Sundance counselors—specifically, Harry. He’s about to shake his head and tell Ryan to drop it before figuring, hey, what’s the worst that can happen? He’s a bloody 15-year-old. If he’s not willing to vent to his friends, he might as well vent to a camper that’ll inevitably forget every last word within a few hours.

“Y’know what? Yeah. It’s that _Harry guy_ ,” Louis murmurs, already glaring across as he watches Harry from across the room, laughing and conversing with all his friends as if he hadn’t just stomped on Louis’ heart hours before. “I’m so fuc— _bloody_ sick of him. He’s cocky, rude, inconsiderate, selfish, and I—I just can’t stand… his hair,” he huffs, unable to think of anything else that wouldn’t send him into a full on cursing-rant. “His long and pretty curly hair. It’s bloody _irritating,_ ” he mumbles, though the reality is quite the contrary. 

He loves Harry’s hair. He loves the way it tickles his skin when they kiss or when Harry kisses his body, and especially loves the way Harry ties his hair up in a bun so effortlessly—before a game of volleyball or before he goes down on him. He loves how _clean_ he looks, and how his face is all on display. God, he’s just a wreck for _him_.

“His hair?” Ryan questions with furrowed eyebrows, staring at his plate as if he’s trying to make sense out of having _this_ strong of a hatred for something as simple as hair. “Um, yeah. I guess I get it.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis mumbles, continuing to fork at his food. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Actually—just, forget what I said. Okay? I dunno what ‘m even talking about anymore,” he murmurs, which is partially true. He still feels so disoriented and lost from Harry’s words, in addition to everything else that has happened between them these past weeks. He just doesn’t know, but somehow venting to _someone_ has made it all seem a bit better.

 

 

**Week 4**

**Friday**

**10:38 PM**

 

Venting to someone, Louis learns, was clearly _not_ the answer.

He doesn’t even realize what’s happened until towards the end of the group bonfire. All his morning consists of, other than helping campers pack, is whispers from Sundance counselors and glares sent his way, along with a few ‘how could you?’s and ‘real mature’s. Louis’ lost. He tries asking Liam and Niall about it, but they’re just as clueless as he is. 

He doesn’t see or hear from Harry all day, which of course worries him, but he figures he shouldn’t be expecting anything otherwise considering the way they’d left things. He sips on his _special_ juice from Niall, which—okay, _yes_ it’s risky to be drinking in front of the campers, but they’ll be heading off to bed, soon, anyways. Plus, he’s sure the current state of his heart makes him deserving of it.

Things start making sense once Louis sees Harry at the bonfire—or, at least, who he _thinks_ is Harry.

“Is that…?”

“Holy shit,” Liam gasps as he nearly spits his drink out, pursing his lips quickly once he becomes aware of all the campers still eating and talking around him, though they seem to be more interested in singing along with Niall’s acoustic rendition of ‘Hollaback Girl’. “His _hair_.” 

And sure enough, it’s Harry—only, _without_ the curly locks. Just a clean, short cut that defines his facial structure ridiculously well.

He can’t even think of proper adjectives to describe it. _Ethereal_? Intoxicating? Somehow, those words don’t seem nearly strong enough to even begin to cover the way he looks. Yet, his expression reads less-than-content.

Louis’ still staring as Harry starts walking towards him, not even aware of it until he’s standing right in front of him with a cold, expectant look on his face.

“Your hair,” Louis says dumbly, eyes tracing along every defined bone and indent and shadow and high point on Harry’s face.  
“Yeah, I got the fucking message,” Harry says plainly, eliciting Louis to properly move his head back in confusion

“What do you mean?” he asks, feeling a bit nervous at the unamused, stony look on Harry’s face.

“Don’t play dumb. My hair, Louis? Really? That’s my _hair,_ ” Harry nearly hisses, voice cold and hurt and angry in a way Louis’ never heard before. He wouldn’t mind going on with his life without ever hearing it again.

“Harry, I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

“Oh, so you wanna try and explain why I woke up to my hair chopped off in a ponytail with a note that said ‘for Louis’? You gonna convince me it was Liam or Niall?”

Louis furrows his eyebrows before widening his eyes in realization, groaning and closing his eyes as he brings a hand up to run through his hair. “Ryan.”

“Are we throwing around random names now?”

“No, no. It was one of my campers.”

“Oh, perfect! So you had one of your campers do your dirty work, thinking you’d get off free with no consequences. Well, ‘m afraid a deal’s and a deal and you signed a contract. So, I hope you’re ready to go hairless,” he mumbles before shoving past Louis to escape into the mix of campers and counselors. He doesn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone, but he knows better than to try and just hide for the rest of the night, so he follows Harry to wherever he’s headed.

It’s the rec hall, which is full only of cross-looking Sundance counselors and Zayn standing with an electric razor in his hand. He looks almost sympathetic, but of course, a contract is a contract.

Louis purses his lips and looks around at the eyes on him, then at the razor before nodding reluctantly. “Okay,” he says, walking over to sit on the bench by Zayn and watching as Harry follows along and takes the razor from Zayn’s hand.

“You have any preference for what goes first?” Harry asks plainly, not even seeming like he’s actually finding any joy or satisfaction in this. Louis almost wants to question if it’s even worth it, but he doesn’t exactly want to upset the bloke with a razor in his hand.

Louis shakes his head. “Whatever you want,” he says, to which Harry nods in response to and flips the switch on.

Louis bites on his bottom lip roughly, closing his eyes as he hears the buzz of the razor getting closer and closer. He holds his breath when he feels it against the back of his neck, trying to think positively. It’s just hair. It all grows back—even eyebrows, right?

But the razor stops out of nowhere before Louis can even feel any hair being shaved off.

He furrows eyebrows and opens his eyes, wondering if maybe the power shorted out or something.

“Hey, how come you turned it off?” Nick asks with a frown as the curious eyes from counselors all train in on Harry, Louis included. Harry only looks at Louis, his eyes equally as curious and questioning.

“You were really going to let me do it?” Harry asks in disbelief.

Louis shrugs and nods like it’s a no-brainer. “Yeah. I mean, you didn’t deserve to have your bloody hair chopped off. I signed a contract, after all.”

Harry frowns and shakes his head. “You weren’t the one that cut my hair, though.”

“But it was my fault it was cut. I shouldn’t have vented to Ryan in the first place,”

Harry pauses at that, just watching Louis carefully like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Are you going to do it or not?” Eleanor asks impatiently, arms crosses and eyebrow arched at Harry. Louis wonders what he ever did to make her so eager for the demise of his hair.

Harry purses his lips and looks around at all the expectant eyes before handing Zayn the razor and reaching for Louis’ hand, tugging him quickly to lead him out of the hall. He leads them past the cabins and through the trees, following the shortcut Louis had taught him to get to the lake. He clenches his jaw once they make it to the dock, letting go of Louis’ hand and crossing his arms to face.

“What do you mean _vented to Ryan_? What was there for you to vent about?”

Louis shrugs gently, not wanting to feed the fire anymore.

“Tell me, or I really will shave your head.”

“Okay,” Louis says, hands raised in surrender before he takes a deep breath. “Um, that whole ‘thank God for that’ thing you said. It was a bit harsh,” he mumbles quietly with a small shrug, not wanting to meet Harry’s eyes due to his own vulnerability. He feels like a bloody child, really, whining over hurt feelings like this. It’s pointless considering it’s their last night and there doesn’t seem to be any hope in trying to salvage any bit of _whatever_ they had, but he doesn’t want to deny Harry and anger him more.

“You were upset over that?” Harry asks like he’s genuinely confused. Louis’ more confused over how Harry could possibly be confused.

“How could I not be?! You seemed _so_ relieved we weren’t, like, a proper _thing_. It made me feel like you didn’t want me.”

“Oh, _I_ made it feel like I didn’t want you?!” Harry quirks with a bitter snort, shaking his head as he stares at Louis. “Why did _you_ act like you didn’t want _me_ , then? How come you made it so clear that we _weren’t_ a thing all those times in front of our friends?” he asks, waving his hands around a bit as he speaks. Louis almost becomes a bit zoned out again due to the illumination of the moon hitting his face perfectly with every facial expression and movement of his jaw and making him look even more impossibly beautiful. 

“I just assumed maybe you only wanted a fling,” Louis admits, deciding against throwing any of the blokes under the bus because while it partially _is_ their fault for putting those ideas into Louis’ head, he's the one that decided to run with them and act like an absolute knob head rather than try to talk things out.

“I didn’t,” Harry replies without a beat, eyes trained in on Louis as he shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. Why couldn’t you just _ask_ me what this was?”

Louis groans inwardly at all the possible arguments and drama they could’ve prevented if he’d just _asked_. As if that’s easy. “‘cause I’m a bloody idiot! Didn’t you figure that out from the night I set my shorts on fire? I don’t know what I’m doing, or how to do things. I just do, without thinking first. And, like, then _we_ started doing things, and I—” Louis rambles, shrugging his shoulders as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration from his lack of ability to find the right words. He’s sure he’s just babbling nonsense, but he’s grateful he’s even getting the chance to explain himself. “I’m not good at talking about things. I mean, I talk a lot—obviously—but… about _me._ About what I _feel_. For you, specifically. And I guess I just don’t wanna lose… what we have.” 

Those aren’t the words. _You idiot_. ‘I don’t want to lose _you_ ’ is what he’d meant to say. ‘I don’t want to lose sight of your smile or the feeling of your fingers dusting along my skin like I’m a bloody art piece or the way your annoying, loud laugh makes me feel like I’m going to die from my heart beating so fast.’ But all that comes out is ‘what we have’. 

Harry just stares at Louis for a few moments, searches his face and observes the way he shifts uncomfortably before _finally_ letting a small, almost _relieved_ smile leak through. “Okay,” he says quietly, sighing as he looks out at the lake before nodding over for them to go sit at the edge of the dock. “How about I say some things, and you nod if I’m right. You don’t have to talk.”

Louis blinks for a moment, processing the idea before nodding and following Harry. 

“Okay.”

Harry shushes him before sitting down, waiting for Louis to sit as well before tapping his fingers against his chin in thought. 

“You care about me,” he says, watching Louis as he nods. “The only reason you were acting like a proper dick is because you thought I wasn’t interested in you _like that_ , and _not_ because you wanted nothing to do with me,” he says, Louis nodding again. He’s quite good at this mind-reading thing. “You’ve liked me ever since the moment you first saw me,” he tries.

Louis shakes his head with a coy smirk. He’s gotta be honest.

Harry barks out a laugh and claps his hands together once. “I knew I’d be pushing my luck with that one,” he murmurs before leaning his head side-to-side as his eyes scan along the lake. “That night at the dock, when you threw a rock at my head and we reenacted _Titanic_ and swam nude. The moment we kissed for the ‘first time’… did you feel it, too?”

Louis doesn’t even have to wait for an explanation to get it. He nods slowly but not hesitantly, wishing he could somehow convey the _extent_ he felt it. How he felt _it_ , along with every other emotion there was to feel. He felt it all. He still feels it all, whatever it is, coursing through his veins and beating at his heart. But he can just nod dumbly up at Harry. Maybe it’s better that way. Spare him the inevitable word vomit. 

Harry’s eyes soften down at Louis’, blinking a few times before looking out, then down at his feet. 

“What now, then?” Harry asks, and Louis wishes it was simple to just _know_ the right words to say. He wishes it was easy to just say ‘I want you, here and now and away and later. I want you always’. Maybe if he just _says_ without overthinking. 

Louis opens his mouth to perhaps suggest something similar to what’s on his mind, but he’s interrupted—perhaps _saved_ —by James’ voice.

“Oi, there you blokes are! C’mon, I have a surprise for you,” he says with a grin, waving them over quickly. Louis’ tempted to say ‘just give us one minute’ so he has _time_ , but Harry’s already standing up and nodding over towards James.

“Let’s go,” he says with a small smile, offering his hand out to Louis to help him up before subtly dumping the rest of the ‘juice’ that’s in his cup, just in case.

Louis looks around the bonfire, seeing that the campers have filtered out back to their cabins to sleep—though Louis’ had more than enough camp experience to know that no one actually sleeps on their last day of camp—leaving just the counselors gathered around and chatting amongst themselves with beer in their hands.

“Here,” James says, nudging them both with two beer bottles and giving a sly wink. “I’m allowed to break my own rules a bit. It’s the last night—let’s celebrate.”

Oh, if only he knew how many _celebrations_ they’ve already had.

“Thanks, James,” Louis says with a grin, pulling him in for a hug before taking the bottle, Harry doing the same.

“Yeah, thank you,” Harry says with a nod, sharing a secretive grin with Louis before walking away to find the lads. He’s still a bit unsure as to where they stand _now,_ but at least he’s not _completely_ lost in the dark as he was before. Harry never wanted just a fling, and Louis’ shitty at communication. All seems _somewhat_ good in the world.

“Hey, all good?” Zayn asks once they walk up, cautious as if they’re a bomb and any wrong word will set them off.

“Yeah, yeah. All good,” Harry assures with a grin, taking a sip of his beer and looking over as Niall quite enthusiastically covers ‘Dancing in the Dark’, proper hopping around and jumping off of benches with his guitar still around him. 

“Hey, we got Ryan to confess,” Liam says nudging Harry’s side slightly with his free arm that isn’t currently wrapped around Zayn’s shoulders. “He says he’s sorry, and that he’ll have an apology letter written for you tomorrow morning.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “He doesn’t need to do that.”

“Yes, he does,” Liam insists with a tut, looking between Louis and Harry. He gives Louis a slightly arched-eyebrow, but Louis just smiles smugly as he cuddles a bit closer into Harry’s side.

Niall comes over after finishing his song and setting his guitar down, letting Nick and Greg fight over DJ as he grabs a beer.

“Oh, wow! Beer! I haven’t had a drink in _so_ long!” Niall says loud enough for James and Ben to hear from where they’re barbecuing some more hot dogs, winking unsubtly and grinning at the lads as he takes a sip. Louis ought to have a talk with him about _not_ acting like an idiot.

“So, this is it, then,” Zayn sighs lightly, looking around at the mix of Oakwood and Sundance counselors laughing and chatting and dancing a bit loopily, no thanks to James’ beer, by the bonfire, taking in the last few memories they’ll get from the summer.

“It’s weird—we’ve done so many challenges and competitions, I feel almost as if _tonight_ is missing something,” Liam muses, looking around and sighing before pausing as he catches Niall’s eyes. He smirks when they seem to get the same idea before cupping around his mouth to project voice. “Camp Oakwood and Camp Sundance, we’ve got one more challenge for tonight. The last counselor to jump into the lake loses all points for their team!” he calls out, giving it a moment to process before grinning and dropping his beer bottle to join the stampede of counselors sprinting through the woods and over towards the dock. 

Louis turns to look up at Harry, sharing a wicked smile before setting his bottle down and dragging Harry along out towards the dock. They giggle and laugh wildly as they run, both breathless and beaming as they watch their fellow counselors hopping in fully-clothed until they’re the only two _not_ in the lake.

“C’mon, Harry!” Eleanor calls out, just as Niall shouts, “Don’t you dare turn soft on us _now_ , Tommo. We’ve got to _win_.”

Louis turns to Harry and grins, narrowing his eyes playfully. “What’s it gonna be, Pretty Boy?”

Harry glares back playfully before smirking to the side and wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist. “You and me,” he says before firmly pressing his lips against Louis’, Louis’ hands immediately finding their way to cup Harry’s cheeks. Harry grins against Louis’ lips before leaning over so they tip off the dock and fall right into the lake, the angle being a bit odd considering they fall side-by-side, but they manage to make it so they fall at the same time. Symbolism, Louis thinks. 

“Oh, you two are no fun,” Niall murmurs, though he’s got a proud grin on his lips as Harry and Louis continue snogging away, a bit messy considering they can’t stop smiling and it’s mostly teeth against teeth. But Louis thinks it’s perfect.

 

 

They get out of the pool soon eventually, most of the counselors just sitting idly along the lake and reminiscing on some events from the weeks or exchanging information while others dance to whatever Zayn’s got playing on his new—courtesy of Liam being well-past smitten—speaker. 

Harry and Louis are a bit more off to the side so they talk quietly amongst themselves, tying up any last few loose ends they may have.

“So. What’s going to happen tomorrow?” Louis asks quietly, hugging his knees closer to his chest as he watches Harry idly stretch his legs out and look out into the lake. Harry sighs before dropping his head, pausing for a moment before looking back out.

“I’ve never felt what I feel for _you_ about someone else before,” Harry starts off slowly, keeping his eyes on the lake even as he surely feels Louis’ eyes widen over at him, “and it scares me because it’s _camp._ We’re here for the summer, and then it’s back to our regular, real lives, and—I mean, would it be selfish of me to say I want you in my regular, old life?”

Louis bites on his bottom lip roughly, heart swelling and nerves thrumming at what Harry seems to be suggesting—what he’s been craving for this whole time. He clears his throat and looks down at his feet before looking back over at Harry. “What if you end up not wanting me in real life? What if you find out that it was all just part of this camp-illusion, and you don’t actually like me?”

Harry huffs out a near hysterical laugh before shaking his head, eyes finally fixating on Louis in deep thought. “I like you in summer camp life, I like you in real life, and I’ll like you in every other life there is—if you’ll let me.”

Louis blinks. He looks around, but it’s like he can’t even see anything or anyone else. Did everyone leave? Or was that just his mind doing that tunnel-vision thing again. He sucks on his cheeks and gnaws on the inside as he tries to compose himself, though _those_ three words already seems to be hanging from the tip of his tongue, trying to fight their way out. How can they not be, given all that’s been said and done these past weeks?

“Of course,” Louis says quietly, nearly in an inaudible whisper. He looks back up into Harry’s eyes and nods firmly so he knows he means it. “I want you, here and back home.”

So, maybe they’re both a bit selfish, but at least it works out in their favor.

Harry watches Louis carefully for a moment before breaking into a stupid, wide grin, leaning in and cupping Louis’ jaw to tug him close for a kiss. “You’ve had me since day one,” he murmurs, Louis nearly melting into Harry’s touch and words.

Louis shifts closer, his hand running through Harry’s short hair and eventually down along his exposed neck, humming in delight at the way it seems to make Harry shiver from how exposed his skin is. Louis’ surely going to have fun with that.

They stop kissing when they hear a familiar bass riff, Louis smirking and whipping his head back towards the speaker. Liam and Zayn are grinning back smugly and waggling their eyebrow before turning it up a bit.

Louis grins and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Those bloody saps,” he murmurs, though Harry’s already standing up and extending his arm out for Louis to take.

“C’mon,” Harry urges, grinning when Louis raises an eyebrow. “Don’t be a loser.”

And, really, who is Louis to step down from a challenge? He takes Harry’s hand and allows himself to be guided up before wrapping his arms loosely around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry tuts and moves one of Louis’ hands so their fingers can lock together, placing his own free hand on the small of Louis’ back for a proper waltzing position.

“Is this really the type of song to waltz to?” Louis quirks with a laugh though he follows Harry’s slow movements anyways.

“It’s our song. We can do whatever we want to it,” Harry insists with a cheesy grin, and Louis can’t exactly deny that. He’d like to think maybe it was the song he fell in love with Harry to, but he’s sure there were numerous other bits and pieces that contributed to it. Not that he’d admit it. Yet.

Louis rests his head against Harry’s shoulder closing his eyes with a soft smile on his face as their bodies slowly move together, and he can’t imagine a more perfect way to end the night.

They kiss slowly as Bowie’s voice croons “this is our last dance”, almost as a physical promise to each other that it _isn’t_. This isn’t their last _anything_ —only new beginnings from now on.

 

 

**Week 4  
Saturday**

**11:20 AM**

 

If you would’ve told Louis he’d be on the verge of tears at the camp-farewell speech, he certainly wouldn’t believe it. But, alas.

The campers left earlier in the morning with a similar bittersweet feeling, but Louis knows they don’t even understand the extent of it.

There are matching teary smiles all around the rec hall once James and Ben start closing off their farewell speech, Ben thanking them immensely for sharing their campsite and being so completely welcoming. If only he had any idea how things had started.

“Camp Sundance—I can’t thank you enough for your cooperation these past few weeks. At the beginning of camp, I could look at one specific section of this room in order speak to you all. Now, I can hardly tell the difference between _my_ counselors and you guys,” James says with a light laugh, proudly looking around at the counselors all mixed in together. “We’re glad we had the opportunity to share our summer with you, and we hope that your finished renovations doesn’t mean we can’t still share some more moments in the summers to come. You lot are welcome here _any_ time, even it’s just for the end-of-camp bonfire and free beer,” he says with a chuckle, Niall smiling smugly to himself. “Thank you all, and I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your year. See you next summer.”

The hall erupts in claps and whistles from both camps, though it’s indistinguishable which is which since they’re all sat mixed in together. He has to give James credit for predicting this to happen at the very beginning.

 

Louis places the last of his bags into Liam’s trunk, sighing as he looks around at the almost eerily empty campsite. Most of the counselors have left already due to carpools, Harry included. They’d shared every bit of contact information possible and had a long snog session against Harry’s car until they were quite literally pulled apart from each other from the lads. 

“I’ll call you tonight!” Harry calls out, blowing another kiss before disappearing into his car. Louis smiles and watches as he pulls out and starts to drive off, not tearing his eyes away until the car’s out of his view.

He says his last goodbyes to the few remaining people lingering around before slipping into the passenger’s seat of Liam’s car for the gruelingly long ride back to their flat. He stops, though, when he sees a paper bag that says ‘For Louis’. He narrows his eyes suspiciously, looking over at Liam when he slips into the driver’s seat.

“Did you put this here?” he asks, though Liam just furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“No—someone must’ve slipped it in when we were moving our bags into the car,” he says as he starts his car up, starting to pull out.

Louis frowns down at the bag, reluctantly opening it and sticking his hand in. He furrows his eyebrows as he feels around a bit before feeling something... hairy. He cocks his head to the side as pulls out whatever it is, his eyes widening when he sees it's Harry's actually bloody _hair_.

"Holy shit," he mumbles a bit speechlessly, unsure of how to even properly react. He lefts out a gentle huff of laughter, shaking his head. "What a bloody weirdo," he murmurs to himself rather fondly, ready to drop the hair—which is luckily still bound together by a ponytail—when he sees there's something else the bottom. He braces himself mentally as he reaches his hand in to grab whatever it is. He furrow his eyebrows as he pulls a shirt out, though a grin immediately spreads on his lips when he sees what it is, along with a note that says ‘It’s not the end of OUR world as we know it… ;)’ with some hearts scribbled all over.

“Bastard,” he mumbles to himself with a shake of his head, though he knows he’ll be wearing this bloody shirt every night to bed until he sees Harry again. And, okay, maybe his eyes get a bit misty-eyed as he stares at it more, hugging the shirt to his chest and sighing out contently. 

“You al right, mate?” Liam asks, darting his eyes to the shirt, then the hair, then Louis momentarily.

Louis smiles tearfully and nods in response. “Mhm,” he sighs dreamily as he brings the shirt up to his nose, inhaling slowly before letting out a gentle whimper. "It still smells like him," he whines before forcing himself to set it back into the bag so he can lean back into his seat and have a little cry to himself as Liam worriedly tries helping from the driver's seat. It's a long ride home, to say the least.

 

**2:58 AM**

 

Night seems to come by easier once Louis' finally in his own home wearing cozy clothes—meaning, Harry's top and some boxers—and after he's had a rather  _long_ conversation with Harry before bed. It's almost weird talking to him in an outside-camp setting, let alone just having to opt for a telephone call, but he know he's ought to get used to it now. Especially if they're planning to run with this whole  _real-life_ dating idea.

Louis' rather excited.

He doesn't forget to set his alarm early, though, needing to finish some unfinished business. He yawns as he reaches over to flick his bedside lamp on, grabbing for his phone and grabbing for his laptop that he'd already set up before sleeping. He rubs at his eyes as he waits for the clock to change and for it to turn 3 AM on the dot, smiling drowsily to himself as he dials Harry's number and puts the call on speaker.

Harry answers within a few lingering sentence with a low, hoarse, " _'Lo?_ "

Louis hits play on the song 'It's the End of the World As We Know It', grinning to himself and even managing to laugh in his tired-state as he hears Harry groan in realization after just a few moments. God, what he wouldn't give to be there and see the look on his face. Though, if he's being honest, he can think of a few bigger reasons for wanting to be over there with Harry once again.

Patience.

He turns off the song after a few moments, grinning and setting his laptop aside before sighing contently and shutting the light off.

"I'm assuming you liked my little present, then?" Harry mumbles, and Louis' sure anyone would have a hard time understanding what Harry's half-asleep mumble even means, but he considers himself a bit of a connoisseur in Harry's various sleepy/bedroom tones. 

"Wearing it now," Louis says with a lazy smile, eyes closed contently as he cuddles up a bit. "The shirt, not the hair."

Louis doesn't have to see Harry to know he's smiling, and he doesn't have to see him to know he looks absolutely, brilliantly gorgeous now. Probably all huddled up under blankets with his newly short hair all untamed and all-over-the-place. Louis' heart hurts at how he's missing out on it now.

"That's one of my favorite shirts to wear to bed, y'know. You'll have to give it back," Harry warns.

"Yeah? Shall I take the next train out to you tomorrow to return it?" Louis teases, though of course he'd hop on right now Harry asked him to.

Harry laughs gently before breathing out steadily. "Let's meet up at a halfway point, yeah? I feel pathetic, but 'm kind of already dying to see you again already."

"I miss you, too," Louis says almost immediately in response, know that isn't even what Harry said, but it's obviously what he meant. He smiles at the the thought of them meeting up halfway, considering he wouldn't fancy the nearly three hour train ride it'd take to get London. Of course, he'd travel six hours if that's what it took, but he'd much rather spend that valuable time  _with_ Harry rather than just trying to get to him. 

"Tomorrow, then?" Harry asks, and Louis almost wants to make fun of how they can't even manage a full day. He wonders if it's something they should be concerned about, but he allows themselves a few weeks to get this puppy-love stage out of the way.

"Tomorrow," Louis promises, already trying to think of any good halfway points between Manchester and London. He's sure they could meet at some old bed-and-breakfast, and it'd still be the most eventful and memorable evening he's ever had.

"Okay, I'll see you then. Goodnight, Lou," Harry says slowly, voice seeming to get even more slow and syrupy as he goes on.

"G'night," Louis replies with a soft smile. He pauses a moment as if maybe Harry'll add any last-minute thoughts before forcing himself to hang up first. He learned from their phone call earlier that neither of them can be trusted with the whole 'you hang up first' game. 

Louis sighs contently as he cuddles up back under the covers a bit more, perhaps drifting off to sleep a little better thanks to the sound of Harry's voice lingering around in his head. He knows it'll be tough, working out whatever new  _thing_ is budding in between them when they're hours away, but he knows it'll be worth it. He doesn't even have to think twice—just has to bring his shirt up to his nose to take in a deep breath, taking in Harry's smell mixed in with the remnants of sunscreen and camp and immediately being sent right back to his smile and his overbearing laugh and his touch and... well, the bigger question would be, how is it  _not_ worth it? 

Because, yes, love  _is_ such an old-fashioned word; but he can't help the way it's taken over every possible thought in relation to Harry in his mind, or how it was all that he wanted to blurt out during their slow dance on their last night together.

So, yes. It definitely _is_ worth it all. The inevitable countless train rides, the long phone calls to make up for the distance, the forced patience. It's all worth it, because now he's got him all for keeps. He's finally got a new karaoke partner and someone that'll actually answer his calls at 3 AM and someone to steal worn-in band tees from.

He's finally got Harry all to himself in summer camp life, in real life, and in every other life there is.


End file.
